


She Will Always Be Loved

by AzureFrost



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drunk Sex, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mental Instability, Romance, Sexual Content, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:51:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureFrost/pseuds/AzureFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Kirkland is a lonely girl living with her brother in London. One day she meets Francis Bonnefoy and her gray world brightens. They become fast friends, but when Elizabeth develops feelings for Francis she pushes him away. </p><p>Years pass and Elizabeth finds herself in a rather sticky situation. The only person she can turn to is Francis, but is she able to let him in to help her? </p><p>All Francis has ever wanted was Elizabeth's happiness, but the constant guard she keeps around her heart has always held him back. Why can't she accept his love?</p><p>Will these two be able to break down the wall that keeps them apart or is their love doomed from the start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Elizabeth Met Francis

**Author's Note:**

> These were two separate works that I have now joined together. I know most people use Alice for Fem!UK, but I feel that name is played out. Elizabeth was listed as an alternative so I went with that. Please Enjoy!
> 
> I own nothing but the story. All rights to rightful owners.

"Why? Why does it have to be like this every day?" Elizabeth Kirkland sobbed as she sat crying in the back corner of the basement laundry room of her apartment building; The dank space having become her haven. Nearly, everyday for the last four months the little English girl had been in one fight or another with her brother and guardian, Alastair.

'It's not my fault dinner burnt. I'm eleven for goodness sakes. I shouldn't be cooking anyway. Why can't I do anything right? I try so hard,' the blonde girl thought angrily as she pulled her knees tighter to her chest and her tears soaked into her grimy jeans. The little Brit was so entrenched in her sorrow that she did not hear the soft footsteps of someone approaching her.

"Are you okay, mon petite?" a voice with a French accent suddenly asked the crying girl. Elizabeth looked up in surprise through her teary lashes into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. As her vision cleared the Brit could see that those blue eyes belonged to the prettiest boy she had ever seen. His wavy, long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his lovely full lips were pressed together in a worried line.

"Why are you crying, mon belle fille?" the boy asked as he set down the basket of laundry he held. He then proceeded to sit down next to Elizabeth. The Brit looked at the boy with curious, weary eyes.

'Alastair would kill me if he knew I was talking to some strange boy. He hates it when I bother others,' the blonde girl thought as she inched away from the boy, but unable to pull her eyes away from him. The blue eyed boy looked at Elizabeth curiously and then grinned at her.

"Ah, I zee. We are not supposed to talk to strangers are we, mon petite?" the French boy said his voice slightly teasing.

"I am not a baby. I can speak to whomever I bloody well please," Elizabeth said crossly her forest green eyes glaring at the boy and her cheeks red with anger.

"Ah, zo you can speak," the French boy teased and smiled brightly at his younger companion. Elizabeth was thankful her face was already red so the boy could not tell she was blushing.

"O-of course I can speak. I'm not simple," the little Brit said as she pulled her gaze away from the boy and buried her face in her knees again. The pretty boys face fell and he placed a comforting hand on the girl's back. She instantly stiffened under his touch, but relaxed when she realized he wasn't going to hurt her. This small reaction did not go unnoticed and the blonde boy began gently stroking the girl's long blonde hair that fell over her back.

"Do you want to talk about it? Mama says that if you talk about what is bothering you it 'elps to not bother you," the blue eyed boy said gently. Elizabeth peeked up at the boy and saw he was being sincere. She wasn't sure if she trusted this boy, since she had just met him, but she needed to get this weight off of her chest.

"It's my brother, we had a fight because I burnt dinner," the blonde girl said dejectedly as she lifted her head so her chin rested on her knees.

"Why were you cooking? Where were your parents? Why wasn't your brother cooking?" the French boy asked a little peeved at the girl's lack of supervision.

"I don't have parents. My dad died four months ago and Alastair had to move here to take care of me. He was really mad about that," the girl said flatly.

"And your mama?" the blonde boy's irritation rising.

"My mum died when I was born. Alastair and my other brothers' say that was my fault too," the girl said mournfully fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

The French boy was struck dumb by this last statement. How could her brothers be so cruel? Brothers are supposed to love and care for little sisters not make them cry! They sat silently for several minutes and Elizabeth watched the boy from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something.

Abruptly, he snapped his fingers and nodded like he had come to a decision.

"All right, since you 'ave 'orrible brothers who 'ave failed at their duties there is only one solution. I will be your big brother," the French boy said with a logical air and turned a brilliant smile on the green eyed girl. Elizabeth looked at him as if he had gone mad.

"How can you be my big brother? I don't even know your name," the little Brit said in confusion.

"Ah, desole. Proper introductions are in order," the blonde boy said and cleared his throat. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. I am Francis Bonnefoy and I wish to fill the role of your big brother. Will you accept my offer?"

The blonde extended his hand toward Elizabeth and she hesitated. Her weary green eyes looked into his hopeful blue ones and she found her resolve. She slipped her hand into his.

"Elizabeth Kirkland. It is nice to meet you Francis and I accept your offer. I mean you can't be any worse than the three I already have," the blonde girl said back handedly. It was a bad habit of hers to never show direct affection. Francis smiled broadly and pulled the girl into a tight hug.

"I 'ave always wanted a little sister," the French boy said excitedly.

"Le-let me go, wanker," the little English girl sputtered and tried to break away from Francis. The Brit was not use to such strong forms of affection and did not trust the contact.

"Non, brothers 'ug sisters and I intend to 'ug you as often and as long as I can," Francis said with a chuckle and placed a kiss on the crown of the girl's head. The French boy then brought the pair to their feet and released the girl. Elizabeth attempted to straighten herself up, but was stopped by Francis taking hold of her hand.

"Come, mon lapin, let's go and meet mon mama," the blonde boy said as he grabbed the laundry basket and pulled Elizabeth out of the laundry room.

"Why did you just call me a rabbit?" the Brit asked as she meekly struggled to free herself from the boys grasp.

"You speak Francais? Magnifique!" Francis exclaimed and squeezed Elizabeth's hand affectionately.

"I only know a little because it is what they are teaching us in school. You didn't answer my question," the green eyed girl said as the pair entered the elevator.

"Ah, well I found you 'iding in a little borough like un lapin and you are adorable like one. Zo you shall be mon lapin from now on," Francis explained and turned an adoring smile on the young girl. Elizabeth could feel her cheeks turning crimson and lowered her head in hopes of hiding them from the boy.

'Is this what it feels like to have a friend? Is this what is feels like to be loved?' the English girl thought to herself as they rode the elevator in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From that day on to Elizabeth's immense pleasure (though she would never openly admit it) Francis became a constant companion. They bickered and teased each other mercilessly as actual siblings tended to do. Each day was the same for the pair. They met at Francis' flat and walked to school. Then at the end of the day they met at the front of the school to walk home. Since Alastair often worked late the two friends would go to Elizabeth's to do homework and hang out.

Francis tried desperately to teach the young Brit how to cook, but somehow the food always ended up slightly burnt. While things between the Kirkland siblings were still tense the environment was lighter. To Elizabeth everything was finally, almost perfect.

Well it was until that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth tapped her foot impatiently as she waited at the front gate of the school. Francis was late.

"Where is that, wanker?" the blonde girl murmured as she glanced at her new watch which was a birthday present from Francis. The silver band gleamed in the sunlight and a small smile lit the Brit's face as she fingered the watch face.

Recently, the green eyed girl had found herself feeling new warmth in her heart when she thought of the Frenchman. She wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it grew stronger when she was with him.

Suddenly, she heard his melodic laugh and turned toward the sound intent on giving him a tongue lashing. The words died on her lips when she saw the sight before her.

Francis was on the front steps of the school and he had his arms wrapped around the waist of a beautiful dark haired girl.

Elizabeth felt her heart clench and she was abruptly filled with anger and sadness.

'Who the Hell is she and why is Francis wrapped around her?' the blonde girl thought as she stood frozen watching the pair.

To the Brit's utter horror Francis leaned forward and kissed the dark haired girl. The blonde girl instantly felt like she had been punched in the stomach and crumpled into herself slightly. Her fight or flight instinct took over and she spun to run home. Tears stung the English girl's eyes as she ran for all she was worth.

'Why am I so upset? I know Francis has been out with other girls,'

'But you've never seen him with them,' a little voice responded in the girl's head.

'That doesn't explain anything,'

'Doesn't it?'

'NO! I don't understand,'

'Idiot, you're jealous of that trollop, because you are in love with him,'

'WHAT!?' the blonde girl thought as she let herself into her apartment amazed at how fast she had arrived. The little voice chuckled cruelly at her.

'You're in love with him, stupid, and, have been for a while. You are so dense,'

Elizabeth numbly walked to the green couch and sat down. She absently picked up a matching throw pillow and clutched it to her chest.

"I can't be in lo…that with him. He's my best friend. He's like a brother to me," the green eyed girl muttered into the cushion.

'But he's not your brother,'

"He'd never see me like that. I'm…well I'm me and he's…perfect. He could only love someone perfect like him,"

'You'll never know unless you tell him,'

"I can't do that. I can never do that, because then everything will change. I can't lose the only good thing in my life," Elizabeth buried her head in the pillow and fought back a frustrated sob.

She jumped when she heard a knock at the front door.

"Elisabet, it's Francis," the Frenchman's lilting voice called through the door. The Brit hurriedly straightened up her appearance and went to the door. She opened it slowly and kept her eyes cast downward.

"Come in," she said quietly and hurried to the kitchen. She needed tea pronto! Francis watched the English girl thoughtfully. He could tell she was upset.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" the blonde boy asked as he followed the green eyed girl in to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He caught her flinch slightly at the question.

"I did and you were late. My time is precious so I went ahead without you," Elizabeth said as she went about filling the kettle with water.

"I've been late before and you 'ave waited. Let's try this again," the Frenchman pressed.

"I just didn't feel like waiting today,"

"Lapin, I 'ave known you for three years now, I know when you are lying and upset. What 'appened? Did something 'appen at school? Tell big brother zo 'e can 'elp,"

Elizabeth felt her heartache when he called himself big brother and nearly dropped the box of tea in her hand.

'Why is this so hard? Why can't I just pretend that nothing happened? I don't want things to change,'

A gentle hand fell on the Brit's shoulder and she flinched in surprise. Turning her head slowly, Elizabeth looked into Francis' concerned blue eyes and her throat constricted.

'Don't look at me like that. Don't look at me with brotherly concern,' the blonde girl thought as she felt her hands clench into fists and tremors of pent up emotions pulsed through her body.

"Elisabet?" Francis said and moved his hand to stroke her hair. Unable to bear the all too familiar touch the English girl shoved past the Frenchman and bolted for the living room.

She needed distance. She needed to think, but the little voice in her head had decided to start up a vicious little chant of 'Tell him! Tell him! Tell him!'

The Brit had barely made it into the living room before a strong pair of hands took hold of her shoulders and spun her around.

"Let me go!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she struggled against the Frenchman's hold.

"Elisabet!" Francis said forcefully making the Brit instantly stop her struggles. The blonde man had never spoken so harshly to the English girl. Even when they were bickering horribly there had always been gentleness to his voice.

"Look at me," he commanded but the Brit only took a quavering breath keeping her eyes downcast. With a frustrated growl the Frenchman took the girl's chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing her gaze to his. The look of anguish and fear that swam in the girl's emerald eyes made his heart clench.

"Mon lapin," he said gently his fiery sapphire eyes softening. "You know that you don't 'ave to shoulder your struggles alone. I'm 'ere for you. Zo, please, tell me what 'az you zo upset,"

Francis watched the conflict in the English girl's eyes as a myriad of emotions swirled in the beautiful green orbs.

"I can't," she finally said and tried to turn her face away from him. The Frenchman's hold was strong though and prevented her evasion.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because if I do then things will change and I will lose you,"

"there iz no way you could ever lose me, cher,"

"Promise?"

"Cross mon coeur," the blue eyed man said as he released the Brit's chin and made an 'X' over his heart.

"All right," Elizabeth said as she took hold of Francis' shirt collar and pulled his face to her own.

"I love you," she said before she pressed her lips to the Frenchman's and electricity coursed through her veins.

'What am I doing? This is crazy, and yet…It feels so right,' the English girl thought as Francis' hands suddenly rested on her shoulders and uncertainty took hold of the Brit.

'What is he doing? Is he going to push me away or pull me closer?' the English girl's thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening.

"Oi! What the Hell are you doing?" a deep male voice called out causing the pair to separate. Emerald and sapphire eyes turned to meet the angry glare of Alastair Kirkland.

"Alastair, it's not what it looks like," Francis exclaimed as he quickly pulled himself away from Elizabeth.

"Oh, I think it's exactly what is looks like," the fiery red head said as he stalked toward the younger male and grabbed his shirt collar. "I knew one day you were going to pull something like this. I'm just glad I caught you only kissing her,"

"Alastair, let him go. He didn't kiss me. I kissed him," Elizabeth exclaimed as she took hold of her brother's arm and tried vainly to get him to release the younger man.

"I'm sure you only did it because he encouraged you to. Sneaky little French bastard," the green eyed man said as his grip tightened on the shirt collar.

"No, I…" the blonde girl started.

"You're right Alastair. I made a mistake and I'm sorry," Francis said flatly and the Brit froze. Bewildered emerald eyes looked up at Francis, but he had his face turned away his hair hiding his expression.

'No! He can't mean that? He had to have felt what I felt, right?' the blonde girl thought as she felt her body go numb. Alastair released the Frenchman with a disgusted growl and shook the English girl off his arm.

"Get the Hell out of my house and if you ever come near Elizabeth again I will end you. Do we have an understanding?" the redhead asked with malice.

"Oui," Francis said simply and quickly moved past the Kirkland siblings.

"Francis," Elizabeth called as she moved to follow the Frenchman, but a strong hand took hold of her arm holding her in place.

"Elizabeth go to your room," Alastair ordered harshly. The Brit turned her gaze on her brother and glared at him.

"No! I have to go talk to him," the green eyed girl said as she violently struggled against her brother's grip.

"You will never speak to him again. Do you understand me?" the older Kirkland said turning weary, authoritative emerald eyes toward the young girl. Elizabeth's own emerald eyes widened in shock briefly, but quickly became angry slits.

"You can't tell me who I may or may not speak to. I have to go talk to him now. I have to fix this. I can't lose the only good thing I have in my life," the Brit said turning her gaze back to the empty doorway. She failed to see the slight flash of hurt in Alastair's eyes. For a brief second the redhead considered letting her chase after the Frenchman, but he needed to protect her.

"This subject is not up for discussion. Now I will only say this once more. Go to your room," the green eyed man said and his voice held a note of finality that shattered Elizabeth's resolve. The Brit felt her whole body go lax and she hung her head in defeat. Slowly she shuffled toward the hall that led to her bedroom.

"I hate you," the English girl murmured and then dashed for her room. Alastair flinched at the girl's words and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Elizabeth. Hopefully, some day you'll see that everything I do is because I think it is what's best for you. It may not seem like it, but I do love you, baby sister," Alastair said quietly and then trudged into the kitchen for a drink.


	2. Building Walls

Elizabeth sat on her bed clutching the stuffed mint bunny Francis had given her for her birthday last year. She buried her face into the plushies fur and smelled him which only made her sob harder.

"I made a mistake and I'm sorry,"

Francis' words played over and over again in her head like some kind of cruel chant.

"I…knew this…would happen," the blonde hiccupped between sobs. "I knew he…he couldn't love me. Not…not like I…love him,"

'Did he actually say that?' the cruel little voice asked with an odd lilt.

'You can be quiet. This is your fault. If I just buried my feelings I'd still have him,'

'Really? You haven't lost him yet, you know,'

'I think he was pretty clear when he called what happened a 'mistake'. Seems pretty cut and dry to me,'

'So you're giving up?'

'Yes. I learned something today,'

'Oh, and what is that?'

'Love is pain,'

'So you're just never going to love anyone?' the voice asked incredulously.

'No, sadly that isn't possible, but if I keep everyone at arm's length then it will hurt less. Unrequited love is better than actual love,'

'That's stupid,'

'Well it's all I have. So it's what I'll do,'

'You'll have to let someone in someday. You can't always run from your feelings,'

'Not if I can help it,'

'Fine! Have fun being alone forever,'

"That's fine. I'm use to being alone," Elizabeth whispered as she cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis lay in bed as the events of the day played over and over in his head.

"I love you," She had said before her lips had pressed to his. His fingers absently traced his lips as he recalled the feel of her lips. It had been so wrong for them to kiss. They were practically family, and yet it had felt so…So right!

Electricity had shot through his body and frozen him in place. He had been just about to return the kiss when Alastair had come in. Only then did he feel what happened was wrong.

Then when he left she had called his name with such anguish. It had taken all his will power to not turn around and go to her. He knotted his hands in his hair and growled in frustration.

His emotions were so conflicting and all over the place that it was giving him a headache.

"Deep breaths, Francis. Just breathe and think this through," he said aloud and took several calming breathes.

"Okay, so Elisabet loves me more than as a brother. since we aren't actually related that makes the kiss okay. The only reason I thought it was wrong was because I see her as mon soeur. If I step back and think of 'er now…"

Francis closed his eyes and thought of the blonde girl. She was barely fourteen and just blossoming into a woman. She is an attractive girl, but as his thoughts began to wander down that road he became disgusted with himself. He is freaking eighteen and shouldn't be thinking of a fourteen year old like that.

"I'll just 'ave to talk to 'er when I see 'er next. this is probably just some silly school girl crush. Once we talk everything will be as it was before," Francis said aloud, but somewhere deep in his heart he knew that things would never be the same again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three and a half weeks passed before the pair saw each other again. Elizabeth wouldn't say she had been avoiding Francis. It was just harder to see each other since Alastair made it a point to walk the Brit to school in the morning. During the day school kept them separated since they were in different grades that rarely mixed. That left after school, but again Alastair had a way of checking up on Elizabeth. The older Kirkland had Elizabeth check in with their neighbor an eccentric Polish man named Feliks.

This day, however, the Brit was greeted with a surprise. When she knocked on Feliks door to check in she was shocked to find Francis answered the door.

"Mon lapin, it is so good to see you," the Frenchman said with a happiness that did not reach his eyes.

"Francis?! What are you doing at Feliks'?" the English girl asked incredulously.

"I played 'ookie today so I could get to know your neighbor and convince 'im to let me speak to you," the blonde man said simply.

"It's like totally cool. He's like a totally awesome guy and your brother is like so lame for keeping you two apart. I've totes got this," Feliks called from inside the apartment.

"Merci, mon ami. I will be sure to bring you those 'air products this weekend," the blue eyed man said as he made to depart.

"Sounds good. Laters," the Polish man said as the door closed.

The two teens now found themselves alone in the hallway. An awkward silence fell upon them and seemed to stretch on for hours.

"I've missed you," Francis said breaking the silence, but did not look at the younger girl.

"I've missed you as well, but you shouldn't have done this. Alastair will kill you if he finds out," the Brit replied but did not look at the Frenchman.

"You let me worry about that. Right now we need to talk about the last time we saw each other,"

"No we really don't,"

"Oui, we do,"

"Francis, it was a mistake. You said so yourself. I had a silly little crush, but now I'm over it. So let's go back to the way things were before,"

Silence fell between them again and they still did not look at each other.

Suddenly, Francis stepped forward and pulled Elizabeth into a hug.

"That sounds good. I don't know what I would do without my little sister," the blue eyed man said with an odd note to his words.

"I'm glad things haven't changed between us," the green eyed girl said returning the hug, but knew deep in her heart that there was no going back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed and to Elizabeth's great displeasure her world took a downward turn. Anger became her default emotion and a permanent scowl graced the blonde's face. Fights with Alastair became more frequent and vicious. Alastair had remained adamant that she and Francis were to remain separated. The pair had the occasional get together at Feliks', but soon school pressures brought those moments to a stop. The school year ended quickly and Francis graduated. The Frenchman's mother had him start working for the Ad agency where she was employed immediately after school was done. All these changes made it impossible for the two to see each other.

While this brought great distress to the Brit it was also a great relief. Her love for Francis was still very deep, but it angered her greatly to have to bury those feelings while around him. She tried to forget her feelings for Francis, but to no avail. No matter what or who she turned to for a distraction he was always there in her thoughts.

"Francis! Francis!" Elizabeth panted as she ground her hips urgently against the blonde man's hips she straddled.

"Name's Mathias, sweetheart," the blonde man said as he pulled himself back from the Brit to look at her with blue eyes.

'They're the wrong shade,' the blonde thought and that suddenly pissed her off.

"Do you want to snog or not?" the English girl growled and pulled the tall man's face to hers.

'Damn, why did I think that? Why did I call him by that frog's name?' the green eyed girl thought angrily as the blonde man moved from her lips to her neck instantly silencing her thoughts. She tangled her hands in his hair and again ground her hips.

"Want to go back to my place?" Mathias whispered huskily in Elizabeth's ear making the Brit shudder.

"I thought you'd never ask," the green eyed girl responded as she slid clumsily from his lap in her intoxicated state. The blonde man rose from his seat and took hold of the English girl's hand. He led her through the crowded club toward the exit. They had barely made it out to the street when Mathias suddenly lurched forward and tumbled to the ground taking Elizabeth with him.

"What the bloody Hell?" the blonde girl exclaimed as she clambered drunkenly off the blue eyed man and rose to her feet. Upon standing the English girl found herself facing an angry looking blonde man with a cross clip in his hair.

"Mathias, what are you doing with this tramp?" the blonde asked as his violet eyes bore into Elizabeth.

"Oh, Lukas, there you are. Look I found us a girl to have a three way with," Mathias said as he clumsily rose to his feet. He then threw an arm over the green eyed girl's shoulders and kissed her cheek sloppily.

"She's a pretty one and she's a punk. You like punk girls, right?"

The angry blonde, Lukas apparently, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in frustration.

"Why is it that when you're drunk you are suddenly straight?"

Abruptly, the smaller blonde grabbed the tie that Mathias was wearing and jerked it roughly. This caused it to tighten and cut off the blue eyed man's air supply.

"We're going home now, moron, and you will be sleeping on the couch," Lukas said as he began walking away still holding on to the tie. Mathias released Elizabeth and tugged desperately at the offending necktie. He was forced to follow the smaller man if he wished to live.

Elizabeth stood dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly went to her default of anger.

"Bloody fucking wonderful!" the Brit exclaimed and kicked at the sidewalk and dug into her purse for her mobile.

"Better call Ioana to take us home since my night is shot," the blonde found the sought after device and quickly dialed her Romania friend.

"Hello?"

"Ioana, where are you? I need a lift home,"

"What happened to your 'Francis replacement'?" Ioana teased.

"I told you to stop calling all the guys I hook up with that. They don't all look like Francis," Elizabeth growled into the phone.

"Oh, please. Every single guy you have ever been with has had blonde hair and blue eyes. Just like a certain Frenchman I know,"

"Remind me of three,"

"There was the Swedish guy, the Dutch guy, the Estonian guy, and the guy you were with tonight. If there is a blue eyed blonde anywhere near you, you will hook up with him,"

"Whatever! I still need a ride. Are you still in the night club?" the English girl said angrily and massaged her forehead.

"No. When I saw you getting 'friendly' with that Danish guy I decided to find a 'friend' of my own. I kind of have him tied up right now,"

"So you just left me here? Why are we friends again?"

"Because we've known each other since primary school and I'm one of maybe three people who know you aren't the angry bitch you make yourself out to be. A walk home will do you a world of good. Oh gotta go. He's managed to slip out of my bindings,"

The phone line went dead and the blonde girl stood staring at her mobile.

'I swear the next time I see her I'm going to pull out that fang of hers,' Elizabeth thought angrily as she kicked a nearby bin.

"Now, what do I do?" the Brit muttered as she started trudging in the direction of her flat. A crisp fall wind blew around the blonde causing her to shudder. Her fishnet stockings, black mini skirt, and torn Union Jack t-shirt did nothing for keeping her warm. She rubbed at her bare arms and sighed heavily.

"I'll freeze before I even make it half way home," the green eyed girl grumbled and glanced at her mobile.

'Ioana is no help and I can't call Sigrid. She's still mad from the last time we went out. I could call…' Elizabeth shook her head violently before she could finish her thought. 'No! Absolutely not! I'll welcome death before I'll call him,'

Twenty minutes later and one particularly cold breeze later Elizabeth dialed a very familiar number. Francis answered on the fourth ring.

"'ello?"

"Francis,"

"Elisabet? What's wrong? Merde, do you know what time it is?"

"I need you to come get me," the English girl said bluntly.

"What? Where are you?" the Frenchman asked and Elizabeth could picture him absently trying to fix his hair.

"I'm maybe two blocks from that new nightclub that opened a month ago,"

The line went deathly silent for a moment before Francis responded.

"Elisabet why, my under age friend, are you at a nightclub on school night? Especially one that is on the other side of the city?"

The Brit flinched slightly at the very aggravated tone of the blue eyed man's voice.

"Alistair was being a particularly spectacular bastard tonight and I needed to blow off some steam," the emerald eyed girl said unapologetically and heard Francis sigh heavily on the other side of the line.

"Are you in a safe place?"

"There's a pub called The Shamrock and Thistle. I'll wait there for you,"

"Bon," and with that the line went dead. Elizabeth sighed and trudged over to the pub.

"Could this night get any worse?"


	3. She Will Be Loved

Elizabeth sat in the pub looking out the window expectantly as she nursed the pint she had ordered. She needed a little liquid courage to help her through this. When was the last time she had seen Francis? A year ago? She couldn't even recall.

She absently played with her green streaked hair as she stared out the window unaware of a man approaching her.

"Hello there," a deep accented voice said causing the English girl to jump. Scared green eyes turned toward the voice and met cold violet ones.

"Er…hi," the blonde girl said nervously as she eyed the man sitting across from her. He was rather large with silvery blonde hair and a creepy childish smile.

"I may buy you a drink, da?" the violet eyed man asked.

'Cripes! He's Russian,'

"No, that is quite all right. I already have one you see and my…boyfriend will be here soon to take me home," the English girl lied and hoped that the Russian man did not notice her trembling hands. This man gave her a bad vibe.

"It is very rude to lie," the violet eyed man said with an edge to his voice, but his sickly sweet smile never faltering.

"I'm not lying. He'll be here shortly and he is a bit possessive," Elizabeth said curtly wishing that this strange man would get the clue and bugger off.

Elizabeth reached out to pick up her pint, but found her wrist trapped by the Russian's large hand.

"You should be nicer to those that want to show you kindness," the silvery haired man stated coolly as his grip grew tighter.

"Oi! Let me go," the Brit said with a hint of fear in her voice as she struggled against the man's hold. The Russian man moved to rise from his seat and Elizabeth felt her stomach drop.

'What is this nutter planning? Francis I need you!' the blonde girl thought as terror gripped her heart.

"Mon lapin who is your friend?" a certain French accent queried and Elizabeth turned joyfully to her savior. She was amazed that even though it was now 3:30 in the morning the blue eyed man still managed to look well put together in a white button up shirt, tan slacks, and brown loafers.

The Frenchman looked at the Brit with concern, but then shifted dangerous eyes to the man gripping her wrist. The silver haired man released the girl and turned his creepy smile toward the blonde man.

"I could ask the same of you, da?"

Francis opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the green eyed girl.

"This is my boyfriend. The possessive one I was telling you about," venom dripped from the British girl's words as she rubbed at her wrist that was already beginning to bruise. Francis quickly took in the situation and moved to the girl's side. He wrapped a protective arm around her waist.

"Merci for keeping mon amour company. Elisabet say bon nuit to your friend we are leaving," Francis said so coldly it could have frozen blood in veins. The blonde girl nodded in salutation and allowed herself to be guided out of the pub. Once they exited the pub she tried to pull out of the blonde man's hold, but this only made him grip her tighter.

"Get in," Francis commanded as he at last released the Brit and opened the door for her. She huffed at him but climbed into the sedan. The Frenchman slammed the door and stalked to the driver side.

"Seat belt," he stated curtly as he climbed into the vehicle, buckled himself in, and shoved the key into the ignition. Elizabeth had barely gotten the belt fastened before the car lurched out onto the street.

Uncomfortable silence filled the air and Elizabeth fidgeted tensely under its weight. Unable to bear the silence, but unwilling to speak she turned on the radio. Quiet music filled the vehicle as some pop star sang about her broken heart.

They continued to not speak as the song changed. It was a song that Elizabeth recognized and actually liked. She wouldn't openly admit it though because it contrasted with her punk persona. Francis seemed to recognize the song as he quietly mouthed the words. The Frenchman chuckled to himself as the song reached the chorus and the Brit looked at him quizzically.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, mon lapin. Nothing at all," the blonde man said with a slight shake of his head.

"Wanker," the green eyed girl muttered and crossed her arms over her chest. Francis watched the blonde girl from the corner of his eye and frowned.

"So are you going to tell me what led to this little adventure?" the blue eyed man asked flatly.

"I already told you. Alastair was being a bastard,"

"And what made 'im a bastard? Well more so than normal,"

"We had a fight about 'my ungrateful attitude' and 'fashion choices'," the English girl made air quotes around her statement.

"That typically doesn't set you off," Francis commented with concern in his voice.

"It was what he said after that that pushed me over the edge," the Brit grimaced and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her knees in a familiar, comforting position.

"What did 'e say?" Francis asked as his grip on the steering wheel tightened aggressively. This went unnoticed by Elizabeth as she had turned her head to look out the window. She could never admit that he was the cause for her actions. After Alastair had finished verbally attacking her about her attitude and apparel he had attacked Francis. He blamed the Frenchman for Elizabeth's personality changes. This had pissed the Brit off more than it really should have and she had stormed out of the apartment furiously.

Francis waited patiently for Elizabeth to respond but quickly realized that no explanation was coming. The Frenchman sighed sadly. He desperately missed the girl who used to be able to confide in him. He missed his 'little sister'.

The blue eyed man glanced at the woman beside him and a nostalgic ache filled his heart. She had been in a very similar position when they met, but now there were very distinct differences. Her scrawny jean clad legs were now lithe and wrapped seductively in fish nets. Seductively? A mini skirt barely covered her sultry hips. Sultry? He could see the curve of her breasts against the t-shirt.

'Francis! What the 'ell? This is Elisabet! The girl who is like your sister,' the Frenchman berated himself.

'But she is not your sister,' the dark lusty part of Francis teased and the blonde man had to beat the voice back.

"How's your mum?" Elizabeth suddenly asked snapping Francis from his questionable thoughts.

"She is well. Remember that American she was seeing?" the Frenchman asked thankful for the conversation.

"Yes, he seemed like a nice bloke. What about him?" the Brit queried turning her gaze toward the blue eyed man.

"Mama and 'e eloped last week," Francis said with a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

"Why doesn't that make you happy?" the green eyed girl asked with some confusion.

"Oh non I am very 'appy for them. I 'ave not seen mama so 'appy before. It is just…" the blonde man trailed off and turned his head away so she could not see the pained look on his face.

"Francis what aren't you telling me?" the English girl asked as she straightened her legs and turned toward the Frenchman.

Francis gave a heavy sigh and pulled into the parking lot for their apartment building. He parked the blue sedan and took a moment to gather his courage. The Frenchman turned toward his dearest friend with deep sorrow in his eyes.

"I've been meaning to come and speak with you. Elisabet mama and I will be moving to Amerique in two weeks,"

The entire world stopped and shattered around Elizabeth in that one moment. This wasn't happening? He couldn't be leaving her? The only reason she hadn't been driven mad with her love for him was because he was here. Unrequited love was easier to deal with if he was here, but if he moves to America? Would she ever see him again?

The English girl jumped with a shriek when the blonde man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right, mon lapin," Francis asked as he tried to search the girl's eyes.

Instantly, the green eyed girl went to her default emotion of anger. A scowl quickly over took the girl's face.

"No I'm not bloody fucking all right! My best friend is abandoning me to move to fucking America! Why would I be okay?" the English girl screamed as she turned and opened the car door. She quickly climbed out of the vehicle, slammed the door, and stormed toward the building. She had to get distance. She needed to calm down before she did something she would regret. She could hear Francis quickly following her and broke into a run.

"Elisabet!" the Frenchman cried as he chased after the blonde girl. The Brit made it into the lobby and stairwell before the blue eyed man caught up to her. The blonde man caught hold of her un-bruised wrist and pulled her roughly to his chest.

"Let me go, you bloody frog! I don't want to talk to you right now!" the green eyed girl cried out as she struggled viciously in his grip and fought back her tears. She would not cry in front of him damn it.

"Then just listen," the blue eyed man barked in aggravation. Realizing that she had no choice the Brit stopped her struggles and went limp.

"Fine," she muttered.

"First, I am not abandoning you. Just because I move across the Atlantic does not mean that we will never see each other again. Second, you are my dearest friend and I am beside myself 'aving to leave you. I do not want this, but I 'ave no choice. Please try and understand, mon lapin. If I could take you with me I would," Francis said as he buried his face into the smaller girl's hair.

"Francis I am too upset and tired right now to discuss this rationally. Please let me go and give me at least tonight to sort this out," the blonde girl said softly. As much as Elizabeth was enjoying being in Francis' arms she needed space. The Frenchman released her reluctantly.

As soon as she found herself freed the blonde girl ran up the stairs to her floor. She dared not to look back to see him looking at her with those eyes that only held familial love for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weariness soaked her body straight to the bone. All the Brit wanted at this moment was to crawl into her bed and let the sweet oblivion of sleep take her. However, the universe obviously hated her.

As soon as she opened the flat door she was met with the enraged green eyed stare of Alastair.

"Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?" the red head demanded angrily his arms crossed over his chest. Elizabeth returned his stare with a vicious glare of her own.

"As if you actually care," the Brit retorted as she made to go to her room.

"I am not finished talking to you," the green eyed man growled stalking forward and grabbing his sister by the wrist. The blonde hissed in pain as his hand wrapped around her bruised wrist. Alastair froze and quickly looked at the injured area. He examined it for a minute before he glowered at the younger girl.

"Who did this to you?" the older man queried through clenched teeth. The English girl frowned at her brother and tried to pull away.

"No one it's nothing,"

"This isn't 'nothing' Elizabeth. Now tell me who hurt you. Was it that French arsehole?" Alastair growled barely containing his anger.

At this Elizabeth felt pure, unadulterated rage rise in her chest. All the emotions from her day banded together and the Brit lashed out with all her fury.

"Don't you dare talk about Francis! He has never done anything for you to hate him so much!" the blonde girl roared.

"Really?! So I imagined him taking advantage of you?" the red head stated with venom in his voice.

"This again?! I've told you before I'm the one who kissed him," she stated incredulously.

"You know I don't believe that for a minute,"

"I don't care what you believe. It's because of you I haven't seen him until tonight,"

"So it was him. Damn it I knew I should have sent you to live with Alawn. If for no other reason than to get you away from that pervert,"

"He is not a pervert and you don't have to worry because he's moving to America!" Elizabeth shrieked and her body went completely limp as despair over took her. She would have crumpled to the floor if Alastair had not moved forward and cradled her to his chest.

Normally the Brit would never cry in front of or take comfort from her brother. At this moment though she could care less. All her pent up emotions from the past few years poured out of her in the form of body racking sobs. Uncertain of what to do the green eyed man held tightly to his sibling and rubbed gentle circles into her back.

"Sh…It's okay lass. Don't worry brother has you," he spoke gently to the distraught young woman. As the English girl continued to cry the green eyed man slowly lowered them both to sit on the floor. He pulled the smaller girl on to his lap and she shifted her head so she cried into his shoulder.

The red haired man held tightly to the girl and he couldn't help remembering when she was younger. Though the Kirkland siblings had very strained relationships with each other not all moments together had been bad ones. Alastair could remember times when Elizabeth was sick or injured as a young girl. He would hold her as he did now and soothe away her pain.

They sat like that for an unknown amount of time. Eventually the green eyed girl cried herself out and fell asleep. Alastair looked down into her now cherub like face and a small smile crept onto his face. She looked so peaceful and his heart ached that he never really saw her like this often. When had she become the ever angry young woman he lived with? He did not understand what had overcome his little sister, but he knew it had to do with the French bastard.

A fatigued yawn escaped his mouth and the green eyed man grudgingly worked to get to his feet. Not a simple feat since he had a sleeping Brit in his arms. Miraculously he made it to his feet and carried the slumbering blonde to her bed.

"I don't know what's going on Elizabeth," Alastair said as he removed the girl's boots and tucked her into bed. "But I'll do whatever it takes to protect you,"

The green eyed man kissed his sister's forehead and walked toward the door. He was so thankful he had the day off so he could sleep in. Just before he closed the door the older man took one last look at his sister.

"Love you little sister," he whispered with a hint of sadness in his voice and shut the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day before Francis was to leave Elizabeth found herself standing nervously at his door. She had come to terms with him leaving but still she hesitated to see him. Mustering her resolve the Brit knocked firmly on the door.

"Coming," a male voice sang out from the other side of the door.

'I can't do this! I can't say good-bye!' the green eyed girl thought frantically and was about to bolt for it when the door opened. Smiling sapphire eyes connected to panicked emerald and they froze.

"Better late than never," the Frenchman said happily as he quickly pulled Elizabeth into a hug instantly bringing the Brit out of her frozen state.

"Oi, git enough of that. I don't have long to talk," she said and wrestled herself from his hold.

"Alastair still 'as you on a leash?" the blonde man pouted but indicated for his friend to enter.

"Always," The English girl sighed as she entered the flat. She was slightly taken back by the sheer emptiness of the flat. Her heart cinched as a flood of happy memories of when the flat was full of life filled her mind. She flinched when a gentle hand fell on her shoulder.

"We 'ad many good times 'ere didn't we, mon petite?" Francis said with a melancholy air.

"Yeah," Elizabeth said weakly as her hands fisted at her sides. She hated this. Why did things always have to change?

The Frenchman sighed and sauntered over to the couch that still sat in the living room. He gracelessly flopped on to the cushions and indicated for the Brit to join him. The green eyed girl shuffled to the couch and sat on the edge of the cushion.

"So where do things go from here?" the blonde girl asked as she kept her eyes locked on her hands in her lap. She felt the cushions shift as Francis straightened himself up. A strong arm came around her shoulders and pulled her into a one armed hug.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I don't want to lose your friendship. There are always e-mails and phone calls," the blue eyed man said dejectedly as he absently rubbed the Brit's upper arm.

"I guess that will have to do. Although, and I can't believe I'm going to admit this, I will miss the way you are so damn physically affectionate," Elizabeth said and shot Francis a half-hearted smirk. The Frenchman chuckled and placed a chaste kiss on the girl's temple.

"I will miss your grumpy insults and, Dieu m'aide, your terrible cooking," Francis said and received an elbow to his midsection.

"Git, my cooking is wonderful. Your taste buds are just too over saturated with that rich French food to appreciate it," the Brit huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. The Frenchman rubbed his tender midsection, but firmly kept his arm around the green eyed girl.

"I'm going to miss this," the English girl whispered as she fought to keep a tremor from her voice. Francis turned toward the blonde girl with a sad smile on his face.

"Moi aussi,"

They fell into a comfortable silence. They were just happy to be able to spend what little time they had left together.

"When is your flight tomorrow?" Elizabeth asked downtrodden breaking the silence.

"Six-thirty. I did not know there was such an ungodly 'our," the blonde man said melodramatically.

"Then...I guess..." the Brit choked back a sob and took a steadying breathe."I guess this is where we have to say goodbye,"

Francis pulled the green eyed girl into a rib crushing hug and buried his face in her hair.

"Non, mon lapin. This is not adieu. We will see each other again. So let's say until we meet again," the Frenchman said as he felt tears sting his eyes.

"All right. Until we see each other again then," Elizabeth said as she grudgingly pushed the blonde man away. She didn't want to leave. She could have spent the rest of time wrapped in the Frenchman's embrace, but life was cruel like that. Always ripping away the things you held dearest.

"Do you really 'ave to leave now?" the Frenchman asked his sapphire eyes full of sadness as the Brit slowly rose to her feet.

"Yes, Alastair will be home soon," Elizabeth said softly with her eyes cast downward. She turned and trudged toward the door.

Francis wanted to follow her but his legs suddenly felt like they were wrapped in lead. He watched wordlessly as his dearest friend opened the door to the apartment and paused in the door frame. She smiled at him but it did not show in her eyes.

"Later frog," the English girl said with mock happiness.

"Later," the Frenchman said with his own fake happy smile. In the blink of an eye Elizabeth was gone and Francis couldn't help feeling that a little bit of himself went with her.


	4. Everything Changes

"All right that is the last one," Francis called to his mother as she was speaking to the taxi driver.

"Bon mon cher. Let's be off then," the French woman said with a smile as she climbed into the taxi. With a heavy sigh the Frenchman took one last look at the old brick building he had spent so many years living in. Nostalgia washed over him and the image of a smiling blonde girl made his heart cinch.

"Au revoir, mon lapin. Je t'aime," the blonde man muttered as he opened the door of the taxi to climb in.

"FRANCIS!" a frantic voice cried and Francis found himself being crushed in a hug from behind. Looking over his shoulder the Frenchman found a mass of familiar blonde hair.

"Elisabet?" he said with surprise as he observed that she was only wearing her pajamas and her hair hung loosely.

"Shut up! Just shut up and let me hug you one last time," the Brit exclaimed but allowed the blonde man to turn in her grip so that they faced each other.

"I'm zo 'appy you came to zee me off," Francis said as he returned the tight hug. Elizabeth leaned back and looked up at him incredulously.

"What? You think I would just let my best friend leave without seeing him off safely? Stupid frog,"

The Frenchman chuckled and looked adoringly down at his friend. They stood staring at each other for several minutes etching every detail of how the way the other looked into the memory.

"Oi! Are we leaving or what? I got other fairs to get to," the cabby said crossly snapping the two friends back to reality.

"I 'ave to go now, mon lapin," Francis said leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on the British girl's forehead.

"I know," Elizabeth said sadly as she released the blonde man and took a step back her mint green bunny slippers scraping the sidewalk.

"I'll call you as soon as we land in Amerique," Francis said as he climbed into the taxi.

"You'd better, git," the Brit said teasingly as the door to the taxi closed. As the vehicle started to pull away from the curb Francis rolled down his window and leaned out.

"Until we see each other again, mon cher," he called out and waved to his friend.

"Until then," Elizabeth called back and waved until the taxi was out of sight. She stood frozen in place as a myriad of emotions crashed over her like a tsunami. After a time she squared her shoulders and stared at the place she had last seen Francis.

"Don't forget about me Francis because somehow, some way I'll see you again. Even if I have to follow you to America to do so,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word Francis called Elizabeth as soon as he landed in America. For the first year of their separation the pair called and e-mailed diligently. Sometimes multiple times a day.

Elizabeth finished her public education and enrolled in university. She even got a part time job to help with the bills. Her relationship with Alastair had even taken an upward turn.

Francis was working in his step-father's advertising firm and was being groomed to take over the company. He was immensely enjoying the fast pace of New York City and all its culture.

As time wore on and life grew more busy their communication slowly dwindled. This disheartened the Brit but her resolve never wavered. She would keep the line of communication open even if it became one sided.

Soon enough Elizabeth graduated from university a year early and with honors. With her degree in hand the English girl turned her attention to finding a job in the states. To her immense pleasure New York University had a position open for a librarian. It wasn't exactly a position that would make good use of her degree in literature, but it was something. She applied and got the job effortlessly.

As soon as she accepted the job the Brit e-mailed the Frenchman. It took Francis two weeks to reply which angered Elizabeth greatly. She forgave him quickly though when she read how excited he was for her.

With the money she had saved and the small inheritance she had from when her father passed the green eyed girl moved to New York City. Her studio apartment was rather small, but it was cheap and not in a bad part of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month into having moved to America and working around their schedules Elizabeth was going to finally see Francis.

Elizabeth could barely contain her excitement as she walked to the café she and Francis had agreed to meet at. She had taken extra care with her appearance since this was the first time in years that she would be seeing the Frenchman.

She wore a forest green sweater dress that hugged her curves and made her eyes stand out. She had on black leggings under the dress which tucked in to her high heeled boots. She had done her make-up rather simply to highlight her natural features. Her long blonde hair was loose and held back by a headband that matched her dress. Francis always liked when she wore her hair loose.

As she approached the café the Brit spotted the Frenchman standing out front obviously looking for someone. She instantly felt her heartbeat quicken along with her footsteps. She was only a few feet away when she noticed the blonde man turn his head and spoke to a lovely brunette woman standing next to him.

'Who the bloody Hell is that?' the green eyed girl wondered and watched as the brunette kissed Francis' cheek. Realization washed over the Brit and she clenched her hand into a fist.

'A girlfriend!? We're supposed to be meeting for the first time in years and HE BRINGS HIS BLOODY GIRLFRIEND?!' Elizabeth raged internally as anger and jealousy consumed her.

'Well the Hell with him. I'll just leave and we'll try this again later. Without his bloody gorgeous girlfriend,' She spun on her heels and made to go back the way she came. The universe, however, obviously had it out for her.

"Elisabet?!" the blonde Frenchman called out freezing the Brit in place.

'Damn it all to the poison river of Hel,' Elizabeth cursed mentally as she turned around with a smile plastered on her face.

"Francis," she said cheerily as the Frenchman rushed to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh mon lapin it 'as been too long," Francis said as he held the English girl even tighter. The Brit felt her anger ebb slightly at the mention of the old nickname and she returned the hug just as tightly.

"I missed you too, frog," Elizabeth said burying her face in his shoulder and eliciting a chuckle from the blue eyed man.

"You 'ave not changed,"

They stood hugging each other for several minutes until they heard someone clear their throat. Realizing how the scene looked Francis reluctantly released the Brit and turned his attention to the woman who had interrupted their reunion.

"Desole mon cher. I 'ave forgotten my manners," the Frenchman said as he wrapped his arm around the brunette's waist. "Elisabet this is Michelle my girlfriend. Michelle this is Elisabet,"

"Oh so you are the younger sister I have heard so much about," Michelle said as she extended a tan, manicured hand to Elizabeth.

"Actually we aren't related," the Brit said taking the pre-offered hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Oh, but Francis you always say she is your little sister," the brunette said turning questioning brown eyes toward the Frenchman.

"She is LIKE mon petite soeur, cher. I apologize for the confusion," Francis said and kissed the tan woman's cheek. Neither of them noticed the Brit stiffen at the gesture.

"Well," Elizabeth said clearing her throat. "Shall we go into the café? I need a cup of tea,"

"It's adorable how very British you are," Michelle said with a little giggle. The Brit felt her brow twitch, but she held her tongue. She was a lady after all.

The trio entered the café and found that it was fairly empty. They made their way to the counter and were greeted by the bubbly barista.

"Hello! What can I get for you today?" the busty blonde asked.

"Ladies," Francis said and gestured for his female companions to go first.

"After you," Elizabeth said to Michelle in an effort to be polite.

"Um…I'll have a skinny decaf latte small, please. Got to watch those calories," the tan woman said with a conspiratorial wink at the Brit. The blonde girl resisted the urge to roll her eyes and gave a weak smile.

"I'll have Earl Grey tea, thank you," the English woman placed her order.

"Skinny decaf latte small and Earl Grey tea. Sir what would you like?" the barista asked as she filled out the cups for the order and tapped things into her register.

"I will 'ave a small latte," the Frenchman said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

"What are you doing? I can pay for my own drink," the green eyed girl protested.

"Nonsense, mon lapin. This is my treat to celebrate our reunion," the blue eyed man said as he handed his credit card to the barista.

"Fine, but next time I'm paying," Elizabeth said as she accepted her drink and the trio found an empty table. They all sat and sipped the drinks in amicable silence for a few moments.

"So, Lizzie, what brought you to America?" Michelle asked breaking the comfortable silence. The Brit's brow twitched at the horrendous nickname.

"It's Elizabeth and I came to America for work. I have a lovely job as a librarian at NYU," the English girl said successfully keeping her irritation out of her voice.

"The job suits you well, mon lapin. You always were such a bookworm," Francis said with a small chuckle. Elizabeth hid her smile behind her cup and noticed the annoyed glint in Michelle's eyes.

'Jealousy looks good on you,' the Brit thought smugly.

"So, Elizabeth, are you seeing anyone because Francis has this friend, Antonio. I think you two would get along well," the brunette asked as she took hold of the Frenchman's hand that rested on the table. Again the Brit's brow twitched, but she kept her temper at bay.

"No I am not seeing anyone and I'm not looking at this time," the green eyed girl said simply.

"Elisabet was never very open about 'er romantic life. Although the last time we spoke you were seeing a Japanese man. What was 'is name?" Francis asked politely.

"Kiku. His name was Kiku and we split up several months ago," the Brit stated not really wanting to discuss her love life.

"Oh that's too bad. What happened?" Michelle asked her curiosity having been peaked. Another brow twitch. This woman was really getting on the blonde's nerves.

"We just found that we made better friends than lovers,"

'That and his tastes ran more toward Greek men,' Elizabeth thought a bit dejectedly. It would be her luck that the one relationship she had thought would get her past Francis was with a gay man.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone like how I found Francis," the brown eyed girl said as she leaned toward the Frenchman and kissed his lips.

That was it. The straw that broke the camel's back. Elizabeth couldn't take anymore of this. She had come here to catch up with Francis and spend time with him like the old days. She had not come here to be a third wheel.

Abruptly, the Brit stood and put her bag on her shoulder. The other two looked at her in confusion.

"I just remembered that I needed to go to the library. There are some books I needed to pick up. It was nice to meet you Michelle. It was lovely to see you Francis and I'll talk to you later," Elizabeth said hurriedly as she quickly dashed out of the café. She heard Francis call her name several times, but she didn't stop as she melted into the ever crowded New York City sidewalks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'I must be a masochist to keep doing this to myself,' the blonde girl thought as she wandered the city streets near her apartment. She felt her cell phone vibrate for the umpteenth time and ignored it. She really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now. As she walked she took note of a sign up ahead: The Lion and Unicorn pub.

'Maybe a drink will make me feel better,' she thought as she walked into the bar. The first thing she noticed upon entering was that the place was fairly crowded. Several groups of men were gathered around tables watching various sporting matches on the multiple televisions. Thankfully the bar itself was relatively empty. Four men in US military uniforms sat at the far end of the bar.

Elizabeth trudged up to the bar and took a seat. The bartender, a middle aged heavy set man, sauntered over and leaned on the counter.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked giving the Brit an appraising look. Normally she would have bristled at his forwardness, but right now she could care less.

"Rum and leave the bottle," Elizabeth said as she pulled some cash from her purse and placed it on the bar. The bartender counted the bills and found it enough to cover a bottle. He took a few steps down the bar and came back with a shot glass and bottle. He poured the first shot and pushed it to the Brit.

"Thanks," the green eyed girl said before she downed the glass in one go. Six shots later the English girl was feeling only slightly better than she had when she started.

"Git could do so much better than that trollop. What's she got that I don't?" she muttered as she attempted to pour herself another drink, but the shot glass kept moving. Growing frustrated the blonde decided it was easier to drink from the bottle and took a long swig. Giving a satisfied sigh she set the bottle down and looked at the other end of the bar.

To her surprise one of the soldiers was looking back at her. He had dirty blonde hair cropped close to his head and beautiful light blue eyes.

'Well he sure is a handsome bloke,' Elizabeth thought as she continued to stare at the man. 'Eyes are the wrong blue though,'

The English girl turned back to her bottle and took another drink. She had just set the bottle down again when she felt someone take seat next to her.

"Hey gorgeous. What's a good lookin gal like you doin in a place like this?"

The Brit turned and found herself face to face with the soldier. His blue eyes held a hungry gleam.

'Francis,' the green eyed girl thought as she stared into those blue eyes. She gave the soldier a lopsided smile and rested a hand on his thigh.

"Just looking for a good time," Elizabeth slurred as she leaned into the blonde man.

"Well what a coincidence so am I," the blue eyed man purred as his own hand moved to Elizabeth's thigh.

"Would you care to walk me home? It's not safe for a lady to walk home alone. My place is just around the corner," the Brit said as her hand brazenly moved to palm the soldier's crotch. A predatory smirk quickly over took the blonde man's face.

"Of course ma'am. It's the only proper thing to do," the soldier said as he slid from his bar stool and helped Elizabeth off of hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It only took fifteen minutes for the drunken pair to walk to the blonde woman's apartment. As soon as they entered the elevator the Brit launched herself at the blue eyed man pulling him into a sloppy kiss. The elevator dinged and the pair fumbled out of the lift; never breaking the kiss as they floundered to the English girl's door.

They broke their frantic kissing and fondling long enough for the door to be opened. The pair instantly reattached and stumbled into the apartment. The blonde man kicked the door shut and shrugged out of his jacket. Breaking apart momentarily, Elizabeth grabbed the hem of her dress and quickly pulled it up over her head as the soldier pulled off his shirt. They locked lips again with the Brit wrapping her arms around the blue eyed man's neck. He took hold of the blonde girl's thighs and lifted her slightly. Understanding what he wanted Elizabeth hopped up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

The soldier then carried the Brit to the bed and fell backward onto it heavily so Elizabeth was on top of him. His calloused hands trailed up the Brit's bare back and she moaned at the touch. Skilled hands quickly unhooked the green eyed girl's bra and the article sailed away to who knows where.

The blonde man then rolled over so that he was now on top.

"Be right back," he whispered against her lips and moved away from the Brit. Elizabeth whimpered at the loss of warm bodily contact. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as the soldier removed his boots and socks. Realizing that her shoes were still on the English girl went about removing them.

As her hands went to the waistband of her leggings strong hands suddenly stopped them.

"No, no, no. I've always enjoyed unwrappin my gifts," the blue eyed man said as he moved the Brit's hands up above her head. He pinned them there and kissed the blonde girl. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth automatically. Their tongues entwined and explored each other's caverns greedily.

The soldier released Elizabeth's hands and slowly trailed them down her arms making her shiver. His large hands came down to her chest and rough thumbs caressed her pert nipples causing the Brit to groan wantonly.

The blonde man smirked as he trailed kisses along the blonde girl's jaw and neck. His wandering lips traveled lower and captured a nipple. Elizabeth gasped at the sudden contact. As his tongue and teeth attacked the soft flesh of the Brit's breast his hands hitched into her leggings. He slid the clothing down and trailed kisses along the English girl's stomach as he removed the offending articles.

He stood towering over Elizabeth and smiled at her naked form.

"Damn you are one sexy lady," the soldier said as he removed the last vestiges of his own clothing. The Brit flushed at the compliment and raised her arms beckoning for him to return. The blonde man happily obliged and once again claimed the green eyed girl's lips. He placed a knee between her thighs and forced them to open wider. He then adjusted himself so that he was between her thighs. Elizabeth could feel the head of his erection pressing at her outer walls.

"Please," she whispered against his lips and that was all the encouragement he needed as he slammed into the Brit.

The English girl cried out at the rough intrusion, but quickly fell into rhythm with the soldier. This was not gentle love making this was fucking. Growls and pants filled the apartment as the pair aggressively moved with each other.

Elizabeth could feel her climax building as her lips moved to the soldier's neck and she left a fairly large love bite.

"Fuck that feels good," the blonde man said as his own lips moved to the Brit's shoulder and he bit down onto the soft flesh. That was enough to push Elizabeth over the edge.

"Francis," the Brit scream and she came hard clenching ever muscle in her body.

A satisfied roar escaped the soldier as the Brit clenched around him and with a few more powerful thrust he too found release. Feeling spent the blonde man withdrew from the green eyed girl and flopped on the bed beside her.

After a few moments, the soldier's heart rate had slowed to normal and he propped himself up on one elbow. He looked down at the Brit and found that she had fallen asleep. Reaching out he brushed a few stray hairs away from her slumbering face and smiled.

"I don't know who Francis is or what he did to you, but I do know he is a damn fool. Any man who would let you out of his sight has got to be a special brand of stupid," the blonde soldier said as he pushed off the bed. He gathered his clothes and quickly re-dressed. He then pulled the quilt on the bed over the Brit and left.


	5. Elizabeth's Secret

"Bloody Hell, what am I going to do?" Elizabeth Kirkland said aloud as horrific pain tore through her body. Her body was coated in sweat that made her long blonde hair and nightdress cling to her body. Whimpers of pain echoed off the brick walls of her sparsely furnished New York City studio apartment. She cried out and clutched the purple body pillow she held tightly as she lay on her worn full sized mattress. The small blonde woman panted and reached for her cell phone on the night stand.

"Who the hell do I call for help?" She thought aloud to distract herself from the pain as her trembling hand flicked through her contacts.

"My brothers are on the other side of the Atlantic. Not that they'd help me. I don't really have any friends. Although..." the English woman pondered as a certain name and face appeared on the screen.

"No, I can't call him. That would be to embarrassing. I can't have him see me like this," she muttered to herself as another wave of pain ripped through her.

"Oh bloody hell!" The English woman exclaimed as she hit the dial button. She listened as the phone rang once...twice...

"Pick up the phone you git" she growled through clenched teeth.

"Ello?" A groggy voice finally answered on the third ring. A rapturous sigh escaped the Brit's lips.

"Francis! Its Elizabeth, I need you to come to my flat right now!" Elizabeth said pointedly as she tried desperately to suppress her cries of pain. She heard the Frenchman groan at the other end of the phone.

"Cherie it is two in the morning. Why do I need to...?" Francis trailed off as Elizabeth cried out in pain.

"Mon dieu what is going on over there? You are in pain?"

"Yes you wanker! I don't have time to explain. Just get over here now!" The Brit scram and hung up the phone slamming it on to the mattress. The Brit shut her green eyes tightly and buried her face into the body pillow.

"Please hurry Francis" she whispered as pained tears rolled from her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

20 minutes later...

Elizabeth had almost given up on Francis when she heard someone pounding on her door. The pained woman climbed off her bed weakly and shambled to the door of her studio apartment.

"Mon lapin open the door!" The worried Frenchman cried with several sharp knocks. Elizabeth made a disgusted face at being called by her childhood pet name.

"Hold on frog I'm moving as fast as I can" the blonde woman said as she made it to her door and unlocked it. The door flew open nearly toppling the British woman over. A tall blonde man, who looked quite haggard, burst into the little apartment and looked around anxiously. When his gaze fell on Elizabeth his blue eyes grew extremely wide.

"Mon dieu! Mon cherie you are pregnant!" The surprised Frenchman exclaimed as he stared at Elizabeth's large abdomen.

"What was your first clue you twat?" The Brit said harshly as she collapsed to her knees in pain. Francis instantly was at her side.

"What do you need? Is the baby coming? Mon dieu we need to get to l'hopital," the Frenchman said as he gathered Elizabeth into his arms. He had one arm against her back and the other under her knees.

"What are you doing? Stop! I need to get my bag and I can bloody walk on my own," Elizabeth argued as she struggled against his grasp.

"Be still Elisabet!" Francis commanded as he held her smaller body tightly to him. Elizabeth froze in shock and looked up into the blonde man's face. She had never seen or heard Francis so serious in all the years she had known him. A rush of gratitude swept over Elizabeth, but she quickly brushed it away. She fixed her eyes on Francis in an aggravated glare.

"Fine just don't forget my b..." the Brit trailed off with a sharp intake of breath as pain seared her body.

"You let me worry about things, mon lapin. Breath deep and try to relax" Francis said with concern as he hurriedly carried his precious cargo out of the apartment and down four flights of stairs. He did not have time to waste on an elevator. As they entered the parking deck Elizabeth caught sight of Francis' midnight blue Mercedes parked illegally in a handicapped space.

'Apparently money means you don't have to obey the law,' the Brit thought smarmily as the Frenchman moved quickly to the cars passenger side.

"I'm going to 'ave to set you on your feet zo I can get my keys," Francis explained as if the Brit were a child.

"I'm not an invalid you git. I told you before that I could walk on my own," Elizabeth said her irritation quite evident. Francis chuckled as he gently set the blonde girl on her slippered feet, but held her frame close to his own for support.

"Stubborn as ever," he muttered as he fished his keys from his pocket. He hit the auto unlock button and opened the passenger door.

"In you go mon cherie," the tall blonde said as he moved to help his charge into the vehicle.

"I can do it myself," Elizabeth said heatedly and pressed away from Francis. The blonde woman grabbed the car frame and gingerly lowered herself into the seat of the sedan. Once she was settled Elizabeth turned her face toward Francis and smirked triumphantly. Francis shook his head incredulously and smiled.

"All right mademoiselle Amazon you win. I'll fetch your bag and we will be on our way. Where is the bag?" the Frenchman asked.

"Just to the right of the door and bring my purse as well. I'll need my wallet once we get to hospital. My keys are also in my purse so you can lock up," the Brit explained as she felt another contraction start. The door closed and Elizabeth watched Francis disappear into the apartment building. Elizabeth looked around the car as a distraction from her discomfort.

'I guess running an advertisement company is a lucrative business,' the blonde woman thought as she looked at all the buttons and knobs on the dash.

'Guess we've come a long way from living in the slums of London,' a wave of nostalgia washed over Elizabeth as she remembered the little apartment building she had grown up in with Francis.

Suddenly, Francis climbed into the Mercedes and deposited her bags onto her lap.

"Off we go, mon cherie," the blonde man said as he slid the key into the ignition and started the car. He quickly put the car into gear and sped from the lot.

It was nearly three in the morning so traffic was nearly none existent as the Mercedes moved on to the road. The pair drove on in silence except for the occasional noise of discomfort from Elizabeth. Finally, Francis could not stand the silence any longer.

"Why me?" he asked curtly. Elizabeth looked at him in shock and confusion.

"Why you what?" the Brit retorted.

"Why did you call me? Why not une ambulance or better yet the father?" the tall man asked as he artfully maneuvered through the traffic. Elizabeth turned her head away from the Frenchman and stared out the window.

"I don't wish to discuss this now," she muttered to the window. Francis shot her an annoyed look.

"It is three in the morning and I am barely obeying the traffic laws to get you to l'hopital. I deserve an answer Elisabet," the blonde man said his aggravation evident. Elizabeth sat quietly for several moments and just when Francis had hit his limit she sighed.

"I don't know who he is," she said with pain in her voice. The Frenchman looked at the British woman in complete shock.

"You don't know who the father is?"

"No, and don't you dare start judging me," Elizabeth said turning to give Francis a dark look.

"I would never," the blonde man said giving the Brit a sincere look. Elizabeth turned away from her companion.

"I'm not some trollop with a string of lovers. It… was a mistake. I had too much to drink at a bar one night and there was this good looking bloke. We ended up at my place and by morning he was gone. A month later I found out I was pregnant. Tch. I never even got his name," disgust laced each word as Elizabeth concluded her tale. They sat quietly for several minutes each reflecting on the situation.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said breaking the hush. Francis was startled by the sudden apology.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked.

"Because I shouldn't have brought you into my problems. I should have called for a damn ambulance. I just…" the blonde woman trailed off as she fought back tears.

"Just what, mon petite?" Francis asked.

"You're about to miss the entrance for the emergency room," the blonde woman said.

"What? Merde!" the Frenchman exclaimed as he made a very sharp turn into the hospital entrance. Francis quickly maneuvered the car into a parking space near the entrance. His door was open and he was at the passenger side in the blink of an eye.

"Can you walk, cherie?" he asked as he opened the passenger door and took the bags from Elizabeth.

"Of course I can walk, bloody git," the Brit said indignantly as she maneuvered herself out of the car and the pair began walking toward the hospital entrance. Francis slid a protective arm around Elizabeth's waist and held her frame to his. The Brit gave him a dirty look which he returned with a look of his own that told her to not fight him. The blonde woman huffed and begrudgingly allowed the Frenchman to hold on to her. As they entered the ER the pair was greeted by a pleasant middle aged woman.

"Good morning and what do we have here?" she asked cheerily. Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Francis.

"My friend is in labor. We need 'er admitted tout de suite,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next half hour passed in blur for Elizabeth, which she was thankful for since her contractions had grown increasingly more frequent. She soon found herself dressed in a hospital gown and tucked into a hospital bed. Francis had taken up residence in the chair next to the hospital bed and was looking at her crossly. He was upset to have learned that Elizabeth had been in labor for nearly six hours before calling him. Elizabeth bristled at his irritation. She couldn't understand why he was so upset.

"Quit looking at me like I'm some wayward child," she said sharply and gave him a dirty look.

"I will when you stop be'aving like one. Why did you wait zo long to call? In fact, why didn't you call me when you learned you were pregnant? Why do you never ask for 'elp? Did you at least tell your brothers?" the Frenchman questioned angrily.

"My brothers," Elizabeth scoffed and looked down at her hands in her lap. "Yes, I called them. You want to know what they said to me?"

"Oui," Francis answered snappily.

"Alawn called me a whore and said I deserved it, Aaron said he had his own problems to worry about, and Alastair never returned my call," Elizabeth said bitterly as she fought back tears. The Frenchman's eyes were suddenly full of emotion. Guilt for snapping at Elizabeth, anger at her brothers' crassness, and host of other feelings. Reaching forward, Francis took Elizabeth's hand in his own.

"Elisabet," the Frenchman said gently. A sudden knock at the door drew the pair's attention and they watched as a pretty young Asian woman entered the room. She smiled broadly and walked over to Elizabeth.

"Hello, Miss Kirkland. I'm Mei and I'll be your nurse this morning. Now let's have a look at your progress," Mei said as she snapped on a rubber glove. Elizabeth instantly fixed Francis with a steady glare and the Frenchman suddenly found himself interested in the patterns of the ceiling tiles.

"My goodness looks like we're going to be having this baby now," Mei said as she removed her glove. Blue and green eyes fixed on the nurse in shock.

"Wait? Now! As in now now? I haven't gotten my epidural!" the English woman said anxiously as she clutched Francis' hand.

"I'm sorry Miss Kirkland, but it's too late now. This baby is ready for its grand entrance. Don't worry, you will be fine. I'm going to get the doctor now," Mei said as she quickly exited the room before Elizabeth could get another word out. The Brit stared after the nurse for a moment and then the panic set in. She pulled her hand from Francis' and placed her hands on either side of her head. Francis watched the little woman with great concern.

"Mon lapin, are you all right?" the Frenchman asked as he saw tears form in the Brit's forest green eyes.

"Do you want me to get the nurse? Wait right 'ere," Francis started to rise from his seat, but was stopped by a trembling hand clutching his shirt.

"Please, don't go. I don't want to be alone," Elizabeth said as she lifted her gaze to meet the Frenchman's. Frightened tears streamed from the girl's face and Francis felt his heart ache for his friend.

"Oui, mon petite. I will stay. You don't 'ave to be afraid," the blonde man said as he resumed his seat and took hold of the trembling hand on his sleeve. Just then the door opened and an Asian man in dark green scrubs came into the room.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Wang. I understand we are ready to have a baby," the doctor said cheerily.


	6. Hello Baby!

"All right Miss Kirkland, Push!" Dr. Wang said and Elizabeth bared down on her body a guttural growl resonating in her chest.

"Bon, Elisabet. You are doing magnifique. Un, deux, trios," Francis said encouragingly as he held tightly to Elizabeth's hand.

"That's good relax now. Okay on the next contraction we'll have a baby," the doctor said as the contraction subsided. The Brit relaxed back into the bed and panted heavily.

"You are doing wonderful, mon lapin," the Frenchman said as he brushed stray hairs away from the English woman's face.

"I can't do it Francis. I can't," the Brit rasped.

"You can, mon cherie. You 'eard the doctor. Once more and the bebe will be 'ere," the blonde man said gently and smiled reassuringly. Elizabeth smiled back and bolstered her strength.

"All right now, one big push," Dr. Wang said and Elizabeth bore down. Her body burned from exhaustion and strain, but she pressed on biting back a scream. Just when she thought she would give out from the stress of it all relief washed over her body and she fell back against the bed. Then she heard the most beautiful noise she had ever heard in her life. Her baby was crying.

"Look, Elizabet. It's a boy," Francis whispered as the doctor held the tiny bundle up for the Brit to see. Joyous tears blurred her green eyes as Elizabeth looked at her son.

"I have a son," the blonde woman said as she watched the nurses take care of the new life. Moments later Mei walked over with the little baby wrapped in a blue blanket. The tiny infant was still wailing at the top of his lungs.

"This boy has some lungs on him. Congratulations, Miss Kirkland," the nurse said as she handed the tiny package to his mother. Elizabeth took the crying child and held him gently against her chest. Slowly, the crying subsided into whimpering hiccups. Francis leaned forward in his chair and took the tiny child's hand between his thumb and forefinger.

"Mon lapin, 'e is gorgeous and look 'e 'as blue eyes," the Frenchman said as the baby opened his eyes for a brief moment.

"Does he really?" Elizabeth said as she felt herself drifting off slightly. The Brit heard the Frenchman chuckle and lifted the baby from her chest. Elizabeth made a noise of protest, but stopped when she felt Francis place a kiss on her forehead.

"Rest, mon cher. You 'ave earned it," and then all was silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I don't mind spending every day, Out on your corner in the pouring rain,"

'What is that lovely music?' Elizabeth thought as she slowly awoke. The Brit blinked several times to clear her vision and the sight she found made her heart swell.

"Look for the girl with the broken smile, Ask her if she wants to stay awhile, And she will be loved, And she will be loved," A very refreshed looking Francis sang as he gently rocked Elizabeth's son in his arms. Noticing that the English woman had awoken the Frenchman smiled down at his little charge.

"Look mon petite lapin, you're mama 'as awoken. Shall we say 'ello?" Francis said as he walked over to the hospital bed. Elizabeth stretched out her arms and gently took the baby from the Frenchman. She looked down into her son's sleeping face and felt her heart swell.

"How can I love someone that I have just met this much?" the Brit cooed at the baby as she caressed his downy blonde hair. Francis leaned forward and caressed the baby's cheek.

"What are you going to name 'im?" the blonde man said as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Alfred," the Brit said simply as she stared at her son lovingly.

"Ugh, what a plebian name. It sounds like the name of the 'ired 'elp. If 'e were my son I would name 'im something lovely like Matthieu," Francis said as he held the infant's tiny hand. Elizabeth fixed the Frenchman with a death glare.

"Well when you bring a child into this world you may name him whatever you like. So until then I will thank you not to criticize MY choice of name for MY son," the blonde woman said angrily, emphasizing her words, and swatted the blonde man's hand away from the baby. Blue eyes glared at the English woman.

"You don't 'ave to be so rude, mon lapin. Especially since I 'ave spent the whole morning arranging things so you and Alfred can move into my town'ouse," Francis said angrily and rose from the bed taking long strides toward the window. Elizabeth stared at the Frenchman in shocked silence.

"Wait? You've done what?!" the Brit asked her voice rising several octaves.

"While you were asleep I arranged things so you can live with moi," the blonde man repeated as he gazed out the hospital window.

"Who the bloody Hell do you think you are making decisions like that!? I didn't ask for your help and I don't need it! I am fine on my own!"

"Non, cher, you are not. I checked up on you while you slept. You lost your job and are be'ind on all your bills. You are about to be evicted from your apartment. I would say you are far from fine,"

"How dare you pry into my life like that! My life is none of your bloody business. I have been in worse situations. I would have figured things out,"

"When, Elisabet? When you were living on the street? When you didn't 'ave food and shelter for Alfred? Why do you do this? Why can you never ask for 'elp?" Francis asked angrily as he spun to face the British woman. "I 'ave already taken care of everything so this entire argument is a moot point,"

"I don't need you bloody charity, git. I'm not some damsel in distress who needs a knight to ride in and save her," Elizabeth growled and looked away from the Frenchman. Francis sighed heavily and moved back toward the bed.

"This isn't charity, mon lapin. This is 'elping a very stubborn friend. I just want to 'elp you. You are my oldest friend. I want what is best for you and Alfred," the Frenchman said as he reached out and caressed the sleeping baby's downy hair.

"I won't be a kept woman," Elizabeth said coldly as she continued to look away from Francis.

"I would never consider it," the Frenchman said not noticing that the Brit flinched at his words.

"I'll find a job as quickly as I can to pay you back. Once I'm back on my feet I'll find my own place…"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You 'ave not 'eard anything I 'ave said. You do not 'ave to pay me back and I 'ave already found you a job," the blonde man said and smiled at the surprised expression the British woman turned on him. Surprise quickly turned into suspicion and the Brit eyed the Frenchman wearily.

"I'm not certain if I should be thankful or concerned. What kind of job have you found for me? If it's anything self deprecating or indecent I'll take my chances on the street," Elizabeth said haughtily which drew laughter from the blonde man.

"Non, non, mon cherie. It is nothing like what you are thinking. Since I remember you being tres organized and efficient I 'ave 'ired you as my personal assistant," Francis said beamingly. Elizabeth stared at Francis blankly for a moment and then looked down at Alfred.

"Well, my boy, looks like it's the streets for us,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Damn it Francis stop primping and get a move on! We're running late thanks to you!" Elizabeth called up the stairs of the elegant townhouse she and Francis shared. The Brit impatiently looked at her wrist watch as the Frenchman descended the staircase.

"Cher, it takes time to look this good every day. I thought you knew that by now," the blonde man said as he walked past the blonde woman. The English woman glared at the Frenchman.

"Then you should know by now that I prefer to be punctual. Now get your coat and let's go," Elizabeth said her aggravation evident as she picked up her briefcase and the baby carrier that Alfred was securely strapped into. The infant cooed and murmured contently as his mother carried him out of the house and down to the Mercedes parked on the curb.

"At least one of us is in a good mood this morning," the Brit said as she opened the vehicle and locked the carrier into its car seat base. The blonde woman closed the car door and then moved to the driver's side. She swiftly climbed into the driver's seat and honked the horn several times as she rolled down the passenger window.

"If you aren't in this car in the next five minutes I'm leaving you here!" Elizabeth shouted as she watched Francis hurriedly exit the townhouse, locking the door behind him, and rushed toward the car.

"Mon dieu, Elisabet! Do we 'ave to start every day like this?" the Frenchman asked as he struggled into the other half of his coat while holding his briefcase and coffee mug.

"If you would get up when I tell you to we wouldn't have to go through this every day. You've been like this since we were children," the Brit said grumpily as Francis climbed into the car. As soon as the passenger door closed Elizabeth maneuvered the Mercedes into traffic. The drive was very quiet except for the occasional nonsensical chatter from Alfred. Francis sipped his coffee and looked sideways at Elizabeth. The British woman dutifully kept her eyes locked on the road ahead of her as she masterfully weaved in and out of the traffic. The Frenchman sighed in aggravation.

"If I apologize for our being late will you stop giving me the silent treatment?" he asked as he took another sip of his coffee.

"It would be a start," the Brit said coolly never taking her eyes off the road.

"I'm sorry for making us late. 'appy now?" Francis said slightly sarcastic air and rolled his eyes.

"Francis, you hired me to be your assistant. It is my job to keep you on task. If you don't like how I do things then fire me. I can find other work as well as a new place for Alfred and I," the blonde woman said rather coldly. Francis looked at his companion in surprise.

"Elisabet, you are the best assistant I 'ave ever 'ad. Though sometimes your militant be'avior is quite taxing. I would never fire you and I adore 'aving you and Alfred live with me. What would make you say such things?" the Frenchman said mild concern in his voice.

"You could have fooled me with how much you complain," the Brit said curtly. Francis opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.

"Moving on to the agenda for today. As soon as we get to the office you are meeting with a new client. Some fancy cologne ad. Then Lili needs you to approve the new models,"

Elizabeth glanced at the Frenchman and found him smirking with a lusty glint in his eyes. A small, wicked smile crossed the Brit's face.

"Don't get too excited because they are male models," her smile widened at Francis' crestfallen expression.

"Will we be 'aving lunch together?" the Frenchman asked his voice an odd mix of emotions.

"No, you'll be having lunch with that girl you are seeing, whose name escapes me," the English woman said a hint of distaste in her voice. The blonde woman ignored the disapproving look the Frenchman gave her and continued.

"The rest of the afternoon will be for the winter photo shoot and this evening you will be going to the opening of Antonio's new night club. I assume your lunch date will be your plus one,"

"Merde! I nearly forgot about Antonio. I 'ave been looking forward to this for weeks. Did you 'ave my suit cleaned?" Francis said his eyes lighting up with excitement as the Mercedes pulled into the parking deck of the office building.

"I have it in the trunk so you can go straight from the office to the club," Elizabeth said as she parked the car in Francis executive parking place. Elizabeth turned to say something to Francis. The words died on her lips when the Frenchman suddenly placed a chaste kiss on said lips. The blonde man leaned back and beamed at the English woman.

"Mon lapin, whatever would I do with out you?"

The Brit blushed crimson and looked away from the blonde man.

"Be utterly lost you stupid frog. Now get out of the car. If you will remember we are late thanks to you,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth sat in her office trying desperately to keep from being splattered with baby food as she attempted to feed Alfred. The infant sat in his carrier laughing rapturously and swatting at the spoon his mother valiantly tried to get to his mouth. The tot apparently was in a more playful mood than hungry.

"Poppet, you have to eat. Mummy has you on a schedule and would very much like to stick to it," he Brit found herself pleading as she deftly avoided being hit by the glob of mashed plums Alfred sent flying back at her. The English woman sighed and set the jar of food aside.

"All right, you win. Let's clean you up and we'll go walk around the office,"

The green eyed woman lifted the babe gently from his seat and then laid him on the blanket she had spread on the floor. Just as she pulled a baby wipe from the box in her diaper bag the door to the small office flew open. Elizabeth jumped in surprise and stared at the figure in the doorway. Francis stood there panting and covered in what the Brit guessed was wine.

"What in the world happened to you?" the blonde woman asked as she watched the Frenchman stalk into the room and fall back against the small couch she had in the office.

"What 'appended to me? That crazy bitch poured an entire bottle of wine on me," Francis said anger evident in his voice.

"Get off of my couch! Wine leaves terrible stains and I don't wish to purchase a new couch," the English woman said crossly. Francis gave Elizabeth a withering look, but removed himself from the furniture leaving it unscathed.

"And what would make her do such a thing?" the Brit asked with an approving sniff as she turned back to tending to her son who had nearly succeeded in rolling himself over onto his stomach.

"I may 'ave called 'er by the wrong name," the Frenchman said as he stood in the middle of the office looking rather sheepish. This received a look of utter shock from Elizabeth.

"Bad form mate. You are a special breed of stupid," the green eyed woman said harshly as she finished wiping Alfred's face and picked up the disgruntled infant. She then rose to her feet and walked toward the door. She deftly grabbed the set of spare clothes she kept for Francis in her office from the back of the door.

"Well it looks like we need to clean you up before the shoot and you'll be going stag to the nightclub,"

"I can't go with out a beautiful woman on my arm," the Frenchman protested as he followed behind Elizabeth.

"And why the Hell can't you go alone? You are a grown man. You don't need a babysitter," the Brit questioned and looked over her shoulder.

"Antonio and Gilbert will 'ave dates. The atmosphere will be most uncomfortable if I am by myself," the blonde man said looking at Elizabeth with sad puppy eyes.

"Then don't go," the English woman stated her irritation rising as the pair entered the executive washroom. The Brit hung the spare clothes on a stall door and leaned against the stall. She shifted Alfred to her hip and stared at Francis.

"I 'ave looked forward to this for weeks. I 'ave to go," The Frenchman protested as he began quickly undressing.

"Well I don't know what to tell you, Francis. You can go alone or not at all," Elizabeth said aggravation lacing every word. Francis became very quiet as he stripped down to his rose red boxers. Elizabeth turned her gaze toward the ceiling which made the Frenchman chuckle.

'Ever the prude,' Francis thought as he turned on the sink and wetted several paper towels. He quickly began scrubbing his arms, chest, and face. As the Frenchman bent toward the sink to rinse his hair a brilliant idea came to him.

"There is always option trios," the Frenchman said casually as he finished with his hair and eyed the Brit in the mirror. Elizabeth saw him appraise her features and immediately went on the defensive.

"Oh no. Never in a million years. You know I detest your so called friends," the blonde woman said aggressively. A calculating look quickly crept into the Frenchman's eyes and he chuckled to himself.

"That is fine. I will just go to the opening, 'ave a good time, and end up coming 'ome quite late. Possibly with an attractive young woman. We'll be drunk of course, so our escapades will be quite loud. 'oo knows we may even wake Alfred. Throwing off 'is schedule. I will be in no condition the next day to go to work…"

"Damn you, frog! Fine, I will go with you tonight and play your little game. I have one condition. You have to find someone to watch Alfred," Elizabeth exclaimed and fixed the blonde man with her most lethal of glares. The blue eyed man smiled triumphantly and bent down. He picked up the pants he had been wearing and pulled out his cell phone. He tapped the screen several times and then put the instrument to his ear.

"Bonjour, mama. Comment allez-vous? Bon, tres bon. Mama, I 'ave a favor to ask. Could you watch Alfred for moi cette nuit? C'est magnifique. Merci mama. We will see you this evening. A bientot,"

The call ended and Francis smiled brightly at Elizabeth. The blonde woman simply continued to glare.

"You are a conniving bastard. Now please get dressed. We still have a schedule to keep," the Brit said as she stalked out of the washroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour= Hello  
> Comment allez-vous?= How are you?   
> Bon, tres bon= Good. Very good   
> moi cette nuit?= me tonight   
> C'est magnifique= That is magnificent  
> Merci= Thanks  
> A bientot= Goodbye


	7. Always There

"I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this. I'm practically naked," Elizabeth protested as she tugged futilely at the hem of her dress which barely hung half way down her thighs.

"Relax, mon cherie. You look amazing," Francis said encouragingly as he wrapped his arm around the Brit's exposed shoulders as the pair entered the nightclub.

Elizabeth caught a glance of herself in a mirror in the nightclub entrance. She had to admit it was a lovely dress. The hunter green color set off her emerald eyes and the fit accentuated the lovely new curves she had gained from having bore a child. The neckline came up and clasped behind her neck. This left her arms and shoulders exposed. Her blonde hair was masterfully French braided and tied off with a matching green ribbon. She had done her make-up rather simply which gave her a sophisticated look.

The Brit smiled inwardly and straightened up to her full height which was aided by the matching green stilettos she artfully walked in.

'You do look good, old girl. Take the damn frog's advice and relax,' the English woman thought as she allowed Francis to maneuver them through the throng of people in the club. The pair soon found themselves entering the VIP section and were greeted by an overly excited Spaniard.

"Francis! Mi amigo I am so happy to see you," Antonio said as he clapped a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"Bon nuit, mon ami. It is good to see you as well. Is Gilbert 'ere?"

"Si, he is with Belle and his date, Katyusha. She is some Ukrainian model or something. Speaking of dates, who is your bonita senorita?" the Spaniard asked as he turned lusty eyes on Elizabeth. The Brit did her best not to squirm under his appraising gaze.

"Don't tell me you do not recognize mon lapin?" the blonde man said with a chuckle. Realization lit up Antonio's face and he stared at the English woman as if she had grown another head.

"Surely, you jest mi amigo? This beauty could not be your sour faced assistant,"

"Oi you damn wanker, I did not come here tonight to be insulted," Elizabeth said angrily and glowered at Antonio.

"Ah, I see it now," the chocolate haired man said and laughed heartily. "Come my friend's let us join our other companions,"

Antonio turned and led the pair to a private lounge where a man with silvery hair and red eyes sat laughing with two very attractive blonde women. Catching sight of the newcomers the trio called out warm greetings.

"Francis, you arschloch. Vhat took you so long?" Gilbert asked in greeting and raised his beer glass toward his friend.

"It is good to see you too, Gilbert. 'ow many drinks 'ave you 'ad already? Your winning personality 'as already made it's appearance," Francis said his voice a mix of irritation and gladness. The Frenchman and Brit took a seat next to the taller blonde.

"It's nice to meet you. I am Katyusha," the Ukrainian said and extended her hand toward Francis.

"Francis Bonnefoy, enchante," the blonde man said and placed a kiss on the pro-offered hand. A slight blush colored the light blonde woman's face. Elizabeth did her best not to roll her eyes.

"Elizabeth Kirkland, pleased to make your acquaintance," the Brit said as she leaned forward and took the Ukrainian woman's hand from Francis.

"I as well," Katyusha said and the two shook hands.

"Vait!" Gilbert said cutting into the conversation. "Elizabet? As in Francis' assistant Elizabet? Mein Gott Francis you're a miracle vorker. You turned a sow's ear into a silk purse,"

"I thought the same thing amigo," Antonio chimed in having taken his seat and wrapped himself around the other blonde, who by process of elimination had to be Belle.

Indignation filled Elizabeth to the point of bursting. Twice now she had been insulted and she was not going to stand for it. The Brit opened her mouth to speak her piece, but she was cut off by Francis.

"Mes amis I must kindly ask that you keep all of your distasteful comments about Elisabet to yourselves. If you cannot treat her with respect then we shall take our leave,"

Elizabeth looked at Francis in complete shock. Had he seriously just stood up for her? Usually he would never stop his friend's from taking jabs at her. Where was this sudden chivalry coming from?

"Elizabeth, lo siento. I meant no disrespect. You look very lovely tonight," Antonio quickly apologized.

"Es tut mir leid. I vas being less than awesome," Gilbert muttered and took a sip of his beer. Awkward silence fell over the party.

'Well this is bloody brilliant. That damn frog always has to make me look like an arse. How do I save this situation?' Thinking quickly Elizabeth turned to Antonio.

"I heard that you recently became a father, Antonio," the blonde woman said with a bright smile. The Spaniard instantly perked up and his green eyes shone.

"Si, si. Romano is so adorable. I am so blessed to have him even though the circumstances were rather dramatic of how he came to be with me," the chocolate haired man said ecstatically.

"What happened?" Katyusha asked leaning forward excitedly.

"Romano and his twin brother Feliciano were under the care of my great uncle Julius. Sadly, Julius died and then all the drama started. My family started fighting over who would get the boys and ultimately Julius' money. My cousin Roderich took both boys for a time, but he was having difficulty with Romano. Roderich is not always the most patient man,"

"That's putting it mildly," Gilbert interjected.

"Wait? Roderich? As in our neighbor, Roderich?" Francis asked turning to Elizabeth.

"Yes, that Roderich. Elizaveta and I ran into each other at the market. She had Feliciano with her and that is how I found out about Antonio having Romano," the Brit explained.

"No one wanted poor Romano because he is 'difficult'. I, however, see him for who he is and took him in," the Spaniard said proudly.

"Boring!" the albino exclaimed and slammed his drink on the table. "I didn't come here to talk about our kinder. I came here to drink und have a good time. So if you old vomen are done gossiping let's go dance,"

Gilbert grabbed hold of Katyusha's hand and pulled her after him as he made his way toward the dance floor.

"I'm with you, amigo," Antonio called as he followed after the silver haired man with Belle in tow. Elizabeth turned to Francis and gave him a withering look.

"You said nothing about dancing," the Brit said. Francis smiled and rose to his feet.

"When in Rome, mon cher," the Frenchman said as he took hold of the blonde girl and dragged her to the dance floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours and four cocktails later Elizabeth found herself feeling rather relaxed and intoxicated. She currently was sandwiched between Antonio and Francis grinding to a hip hop song she didn't recognize. She suddenly realized her drink was empty again and gestured to Francis that she was going for another. Somehow, she managed to make it to the bar without breaking her neck in her stilettos.

"I need another one of these, mate," the Brit said as she waved her glass at the bartender. The brunette man smiled quickly mixing the drink and setting it in front of the blonde.

"Cheers," she said picking up her drink. As she turned to head back to the dance floor the blonde collided with another patron and spilt her drink all over her dress.

"Bloody Hell!" Elizabeth exclaimed and quickly made her way to the washrooms.

"Can you believe her? The little British tramp," Elizabeth heard a familiar female voice say drawing her attention as she entered the washroom. The Brit peeked around the corner and saw Belle and Katyusha at the sinks fixing their make-up.

"I know did you see her all over the guys? I bet that's how she ended up pregnant the last time," Belle said with a sneer.

"What? She has a kid? Is it Francis'? Is that why they live together?" Katyusha queried.

"I'm not sure, but it would make sense. I mean why else would he put up with her? You heard Antonio and Gilbert. She apparently is a total controlling bitch,"

Angry, hurt tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes and she forgot about her drink stained dress. She was use to people looking down on her and talking behind her back. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt especially when the people saying these things didn't know the first thing about her. The blonde woman quickly turned back the way she had come. Tears blurred her vision and she stumbled in her stilettos.

"Blasted shoes," the Brit muttered angrily and quickly removed the offending footwear. Elizabeth made her way toward the club exit wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the crass comments of the other women.

"Elizabet, vhere are you going? The dance floor is that vay," Gilbert said catching the Britain by her wrist.

"Let me go!" the blonde said angrily and swung blindly at the albino with her shoes. Surprised, the red eyed man released the English woman's wrist, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. Elizabeth then made a mad dash for the exit ignoring the questioning protests from the silver haired man.

Cool air crashed against the green eyed woman like a brick wall as she burst out into the night. The cold cement of the sidewalk on her bare feet made Elizabeth shiver.

'I want to go home,' the Brit thought sadly. Wrapping her arms around herself the blonde turned in the direction of Francis' townhouse. She had barely taken a handful of steps when she felt something warm drape over her shoulders.

Shocked, Elizabeth turned and found Francis standing behind her his face full of concern.

"Mon lapin, what is wrong? Gilbert, said you were upset and leaving the club," the Frenchman asked as he put his hands on the Brit's small shoulders.

'He is always there. Every time I need him he magically shows up like a white knight in a fairy tale. Why is that? Why?' Elizabeth thought as a heart wrenching sob escaped her throat and she fell forward against the blonde man's strong chest. Stunned by the sudden our burst Francis instinctively wrapped his arms protectively around the girl.

"Mon cher?"

"Please, Francis, don't ever leave me. Please always be there for me. If I didn't have you I'd be alone again and I can't bear that," the English woman pleaded and turned broken emerald eyes up to meet his sapphire eyes. Francis felt his heart clench as he looked into those green eyes.

"Elisabet," the Frenchman said breathlessly as he leaned down and kissed the Brit. The blonde girl froze for but a fraction of a second before she returned the kiss in earnest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What happened next became a blur of passionate kisses, city lights, and flying attire. Before they truly knew what happened the pair found themselves in Francis' bedroom. They fell naked locked together in another deep passionate kiss onto the king size bed. Their tongues danced together in a waltz old as time.

Elizabeth twined her fingers into the Frenchman's hair as he trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear. His tongue caressed the shell of said ear making the blonde woman squirm in pleasure and need.

"Francis, please," the Brit begged as she writhed under the weight of the Frenchman. The blonde man leaned back and looked into Elizabeth's passion glazed eyes.

"Are you sure, mon petite?" he asked his sapphire eyes searching her emerald ones.

"Yes!" the English woman cried taking hold of the Frenchman's head and pulling him into another deep kiss. Francis adjusted their position and lined up his hips. He slowly sheathed himself into her and gave a deep guttural, claiming growl. A gasp of ecstasy escaped the blonde girl and she pressed her hips up toward the blonde man's.

"Be still, Elisabet or you will unman me," Francis said pressing the Brit into the mattress. The blonde girl whimpered in protest but did as she was asked. The Frenchman moved his hips in a slow rhythmic manner as he rained kisses down on Elizabeth's face, neck, and shoulders. The green eyed girl squirmed and wriggled under the blonde man's masterful ministrations her passion rising with every thrust.

"Francis, please, I can't take much more," the English woman entreated. Francis abruptly wrapped his arms around the Brit and rolled the pair so that Elizabeth was now straddling him.

"I want to see you, Elisabet. Show me your true beauty. Your unbridled passion," the Frenchman said as his hands took hold of the blonde girl's hips coaxing her upward. Elizabeth moved her hips up and down until she found a rhythm. Unadulterated bliss coursed through the blonde and she tangled her fingers into her hair.

"Francis, Francis," the green eyed Brit chanted like a spell as her movements became more urgent. She was so close. Incoherent words and mewls escaped the Brit as she claimed her peak.

"Elisabet," Francis growled as he quickly flipped the girl onto her back as she was in the glow of climax. After several sharp thrusts he too climaxed and rolled off of the Brit.

They lay there side by side panting in the afterglow. Exhaustion, washed over Elizabeth and she rolled onto her side drowsy eyes closing tightly.

"I love you, Elisabet," were the last words she heard before she drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Ugh, why is it so warm? Why does it feel like Big Ben is ringing in my head? What is this heaviness on me?' Elizabeth thought as she awoke the next morning. Events of the previous evening slowly began to replay themselves in the Brit's head as she struggled to open her eyes.

"That is the last time I let Francis talk me into going out with his friends," she murmured as her eyes opened and cleared. As she looked around the room the blonde quickly realized she was not in her own room.

"This looks like…" Elizabeth froze as she suddenly remembered where she was. She turned her head and found herself face to face with the Frenchman. He had an arm wrapped around her waist and was snoring lightly.

'Oh bloody Hell!' the English woman thought as she slowly slid herself out from under the Frenchman's arm and climbed off the bed. Moving as silently as a cat the green eyed girl walked across the room and quickly crept out the open door. Then she all but sprinted down the hall.

Elizabeth ducked into her own room and grabbed her white terrycloth robe from its hook on the back of the door. She wrapped her naked body in the robe and then moved to her bed. She sank down on the bed's edge and clasped her face in her hands. Her words from last night rang in her head.

"Please, Francis, don't ever leave me. Please always be there for me,"

"What have I done? I've really buggered up this time," Elizabeth said aloud as the full weight of the situation crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.

"I love you, Elisabet," the memory of Francis' last words before sleep had taken her echoed in the Brit's ears. The English woman growled and tugged at her blonde hair as a wave of conflicting emotion washed over her. She sprang to her feet and made for her bedroom door.

"I need tea. I always think better after I've had my tea," the blonde said as she quickly made her way downstairs. She turned at the foot of the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Her body went into auto-pilot as her mind wandered back to last night.

'What am I going to do?' she thought as she set the tea kettle on the oven burner. 'I'll just tell him last night was a mistake. It was the drinks talking. I mean we were both pretty drunk,'

Suddenly, Elizabeth felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a soft kiss was placed on the crown of her head.

"Bonjour, mon amour," Francis said against the Brit's scalp. Panic consumed Elizabeth she violently tore herself from the Frenchman's embrace putting as much distance as she could between them. The blond man looked at the emerald eyed girl with surprise and hurt in his own eyes.

"Wh-what do you think you're doing frog? Wrapping yourself around me like that?" the Brit said her panic written all over her face. She then noticed that Francis was completely naked and quickly turned away from him.

"Elisabet, after last night…"

"Last night was a mistake and I would like to forget it ever happened,"

"Y-you don't mean that," Francis said his voice full of confusion and pain.

"Francis, we were both drunk. We said and did things last night that neither of us would have ever done when sober," the Brit said and quickly moved to leave the room.

"Elisabet, wait,"

"I have to go fetch Alfred. I'm sure your mother is wondering where I am," the Brit disappeared through the doorway before Francis could protest. The Frenchman stared at the empty doorway for a moment and then violently slammed his fist on the counter top.

"Why, lapin? Why is it that every time someone gets close to you, you run?" Francis listened as Elizabeth moved around in her room and turned his gaze toward the ceiling. "Why can't you let anyone love you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis stood outside the bathroom door with Alfred squirming on his hip. His concern grew as he heard his friend begin to wretch.

"Mon lapin, this is the third day you 'ave been ill. I think you need to see a doctor," the blonde man said with concern.

"I'm…I'm fine…It always passes…" the Brit cut off as she wretched again. Francis felt himself grow a bit queasy listening to his sick friend.

"Alfred and I will run to the corner store and buy you some medicine. We will be right back,"

"Fine," the English woman called after she finished vomiting.

'Ugh. This is most unpleasant. I don't think I'm sick and it definitely isn't food poisoning. It feels almost like when I had morning sickness,'

Horror filled the blonde woman's heart and she scrambled to her feet. She staggered to medicine cabinet and began pulling out items until she found what she was looking for. She opened the box and pulled out a pregnancy test.

'Please no. Please, please, please,' Elizabeth chanted in her head as she took the test and then set it on the counter.

"It takes two minutes," the Brit read aloud as she looked at the box and paced the small length of the washroom. This was the second longest wait of her life. The first of course being when she found she was pregnant with Alfred. She glanced down at the test and her heart sank. The test was positive.

"DAMN IT ALL TO BLOODY HELL! I MUST BE THE SINGLE MOST FERTILE FEMALE ON THE PLANET! THAT'S TWICE NOW! TWICE! I AM NEVER DRINKING AGAIN!" Elizabeth scram at the top of her lungs and crumpled to the floor in hysterical sobs.

"What do I do now?"


	8. Always Running

"Did you have a nice rest, mon cher? Are you feeling better?" Francis asked as Elizabeth shambled into the kitchen where the Frenchman was attempting to feed Alfred. The Brit smiled at the pair, who had more food on them then in the infant.

"A little," the English woman said as she took a seat on the other side of Alfred's highchair. She had gone straight to bed after the 'incident' that morning.

"Mama mama," Alfred said and wiggled his little hands at his mother.

"Did you have a good day with Francis, poppet?" the blonde woman asked as she took the baby food from the Frenchman and began feeding the babe.

"Say oui mama, Alfred. We went to the park and le café. Alfred 'as an admirer there. Oui, Alfred? The pretty petite red'ead. 'e is quite the 'eartbreaker," Francis said and cuffed the tot under his chin. Alfred giggled and reached for the Frenchman.

"Dada," the tot cooed his blue eyes glowing happily.

"That is so sweet. 'e thinks I am 'is papa. Je t'aime mon petit lapin," the blonde man grinned and ruffled the baby's blonde hair.

"Francis?" Elizabeth said quietly drawing Francis' attention.

"Oui, mon cher?" the Frenchman responded quirking a well manicured brow at the Brit.

"Do you want to have children?" the blonde girl asked focusing completely on feeding her son. Blue eyes grew wide with surprise and stared at the blonde woman.

"Why do you ask? Is there something you need to tell me?"

"No, I was just curious, because you are so good with Alfred,"

Francis felt that there was something more to this sudden curiosity, but he did not feel like starting an argument.

"Oui, someday I would love to be un pere. It is just not the time for it now. I am so busy with the company that I fear I would make a terrible father,"

"I see," Elizabeth said as she set aside the food jar. The Brit rose and lifted Alfred out of his highchair.

"Alfred and I are going to bed now. Thank you very much for looking after him today," the blonde woman quickly exited the kitchen leaving a very confused Frenchman behind her. She scurried up the stairs and dashed into her room closing the door behind her. Moving toward the bed, Elizabeth laid Alfred on the mattress and picked up the diaper bag at the foot of the bed. She pulled out some baby wipes and 'sponge bathed' the tot with them. She didn't even know she was crying until her tears discolored the navy blue onesie the babe wore.

"Alfred, look at your silly mummy. She's crying and she doesn't know why," Elizabeth said as she climbed on to the bed beside her son and cradled him to her chest. She lay there for several minutes crying and holding to her son like a lifeline. Tiny hands reached up and patted tear stained cheeks.

"Mama," the tiny one said. The Brit looked down into her son's innocent blue eyes and smiled.

"Don't worry poppet, mummy will be all right. We both will. Mummy will figure this all out. She has been in worse situations. Now let's get you in bed," Elizabeth said and kissed the baby's forehead.

Francis stood outside of Elizabeth's room his hand poised to knock, but he froze. She was crying. Why?

The Frenchman sighed and dropped his hand. He knew that if he pressed now he would get no answers from her. Things had been awkward between them since 'That' night and it frustrated the blue eyed man to no end.

Feeling impotent Francis turned and walked toward the bathroom. A warm shower would make him feel better. As he entered the bathroom something on the floor caught his attention. He bent down and picked up the odd looking stick. Realization quickly washed over him as he looked closer at the stick.

"A pregnancy test?" Francis muttered as he observed the item in his hand and saw that the small window had a faded word in it: Pregnant. The blonde's eyes grew wide and he quickly looked in the direction of the Brit's room.

"Fuck," he cursed and flung the test into the waste basket. Turning quickly, the Frenchman made his way down to the kitchen. He needed a stiff drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis growled in frustration as he stared at the documents in front of him. He had been trying for the last hour to read over the new contracts he had received, but he just couldn't concentrate. Things had been very strained at home and Francis knew why. Elizabeth was keeping things from him and not behaving like her normal self.

They had argued viciously that morning and Elizabeth had stayed home while Francis went to the office. All those hateful words over being out of milk.

"MERDE!" Francis exclaimed and violently shoved the papers away from him. He placed his face in his hands and sighed heavily. He had to do something about this situation soon or he would lose his mind. His office phone rang and he glared at the offending item. He took a cleansing breath and lifted the receiver.

"Francis Bonnefoy," he stated with a professional air.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, hello. How are you today?" a deep male voice with an accent Francis could not place asked.

"I am well. 'ow may I 'elp you?"

"My name is Sadik Adnan and I am calling to ask you about Elizabeth Kirkland,"

"Elisabet?" the Frenchman quirked his eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. She has applied to be my personal assistant and I wanted to see how her performance was with you,"

"Come again?"

"Ah, she must not have informed you that she was intending to leave her current position. Maybe I should call another time?" Sadik said sensing the Frenchman's turning mood over the line.

"Oui, now is not the best time. 'ave a good day, sir," Francis said numbly as he set down the receiver. A host of emotions fought for control of the Frenchman as his mind whirled over this new development. In the end anger won out.

'What the 'ell does she think she is doing? She is trying to run again! Well that just is not going to 'appen!' the blonde man thought as he stood up quickly and stormed out of his office.

'I am done with 'er issues. We are settling this today,'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't mummy's scones smell tasty, poppet?" Elizabeth asked Alfred as she pulled the tray of pastries out of the oven. The blonde haired boy smiled up at his mother from his seat on the kitchen floor.

"Yum," the tot said as he went back to banging on the pots surrounding him with a wooden spoon. The Brit chuckled, but gave out a squeak when she heard the front door slam open.

"ELISABET!" Francis scram as he stormed into the kitchen his eyes a pair of burning blue flames. Elizabeth set down the tray and closed the oven.

"What the bloody Hell Francis? You scared me to death," the Brit said angrily as she bent to pick up Alfred who had begun crying at all the loud noises. She bounced the tot on her hip and made soothing noises to calm him.

"I just got off the phone with a Mr. Sadik Adnan. 'e says you applied for a position at 'is office and 'e wanted my opinion of you," the Frenchman fumed his body shaking from anger.

"What did you tell him?" the English woman said casually as she walked over to Alfred's highchair and secured the babe into it.

"I told 'im 'e would 'ave to call another time. When did you plan on telling me?" the blonde asked as his watched the Brit pull a box of baby snacks out of the cabinet.

"Tell you what? That I was looking for another job? You knew from day one that I never intended to stay as either your assistant or roommate. I've got my life more or less in order so I thought it was time to move on. Why does it matter to you?" the blonde woman said curtly as she returned to her son and spilt a fair amount of snacks onto the chair tray.

"It matters because I care about you and Alfred. You should 'ave discussed this with me," the blonde man said taking a step toward the Brit.

"There was nothing to discuss. I'm leaving and that is that,"

"Non, it is not,"

"Yes, it is,"

"Damn it, Elisabet, I know!" Francis cried. He was now standing in front of the Brit towering over her his frustration almost palpable. Elizabeth swallowed anxiously and looked up at the blonde man with fear in her eyes.

"Y-you know w-what?" she stammered and took several steps back until her back pressed in to the counter.

"I know you are pregnant," Francis said quietly and his blue eyes softened slightly. Terror clenched Elizabeth's heart.

"N-no, I'm not…"

"Don't lie to me!" the Frenchman yelled and advanced on the Brit. "I saw the test the night you asked me about being a father. It's mine isn't it?"

Elizabeth was not prepared for this. She had thought that she had hidden everything so well. She looked away from Francis unable to bear seeing his reaction when she answered.

"Yes," she whispered shamefully. Rage consumed Francis and he slammed his fists on the counter on either side of the Brit making her flinch.

"And you never intended to tell me did you? You were going to rabbit like you always do?" the Frenchman accused and when Elizabeth did not answer he roughly took her chin in his hand lifting her gaze to meet his own.

"Answer me," his voice gravely serious. Anguished tears formed in the Brit's green eyes as she saw all the hurt and frustration in the Frenchman's blue ones.

"Yes," she said as a sob escaped her lips. Francis' face filled with disgust and he turned his back on the English woman not realizing that his actions cut into her like a knife. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Why? Why would you do that to me? To the children? I can more than take care of all of us. Why Elisabet? Please explain it o me because I just do not understand," Francis said his voice full of heartache.

"It…It just would have been better that way. These children are my responsibility," the blonde explained as she fought to control her tears.

"I told you when Alfred was born that you don't 'ave to do this alone. I am 'ere to 'elp you," Francis said his voice almost pleading.

"Why? Why do you want to help me so bad? So that I'll be in your debt? So you can lord over me?"

"Damn it, Elisabet! I do everything, 'ave done everything because I love you,"

"Tch. You expect me to believe that,"

"It's the truth. Why is it so 'ard for you to let someone love you?"

"Because love is pain!" the green eyed girl screamed. "All love does is bring pain. My mother loved me and she died in childbirth for me. My father loved her and when she died it nearly killed him. My brothers loved her too. I love my family, but all they do is hurt me. When father was alive he could barely look at me. My brothers blamed me for not having a mother. After Alastair took me in I tried so hard to be good and show him I loved him. All he did was tell me that I had ruined his life,"

Elizabeth could not hold in her emotions any longer. She sank to her knees wrapping her arms around her waist and sobbed onto the floor. Francis sat down beside the Brit and tried to pull her into his lap. She resisted and scurried back from him. She looked up at him her face blotchy from crying and gave him a half crazed smile.

"You want to know something really twisted Francis?" the blonde girl asked her eyes slightly glazed over as she crawled toward the Frenchman. "Everything I have done in my life has been for one person. The one person who ever showed me true love. I told him I loved him once. We even kissed but that was a mistake. He rejected my love and I decided that it was easier to love him from afar. I have been in love with him for so long even though he is the one who truly taught me that love is pain. Do you want to know who he is?"

"Elisabet?!" Francis said as the Brit straddled him and placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

"It's you Francis. I've been in love with you since we were children. You were always so kind even when you teased me. I knew I could never have you, because you are so perfect. Perfection doesn't belong with something so broken. I pushed you away to protect my heart and to keep you from seeing how broken I am. Now though, I've messed it all up," Elizabeth said as she leaned forward and put her head on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"No, Elisabet everything is fine,"

"No it isn't. Now you know. You know the truth and now you'll be able to hurt me. As much as I don't want to be alone having you hurt me again is a fate far worse,"

Francis took the blonde girl by her shoulders and pressed her back so that they were face to face.

"I would never meant to 'urt you or leave you alone. I swear never to 'urt you again. Right now you and your children are the most important things in my life. I love you," Francis said his voice sincere.

"Words, words, words, hollow words," the English woman said in a sing song voice and fresh tears streamed down her face. The Frenchman growled in frustration and crushed the Brit in a tight hug.

"What will it take Elisabet? What will it take for me to prove my love for you?" the blonde man asked pleadingly. The blonde girl sighed sadly and hugged Francis back.

"I don't know, Francis. I just don't know,"

Quiet whimpers suddenly penetrated Elizabeth's hearing and panic seized.

"Alfred!" she gasped and scrambled off of Francis. She quickly sprang to her feet and rushed to her baby.

"Mummy is so sorry, poppet. Please, don't hate her. Please, please, please," the blonde woman said almost like a mantra as she took the babe from his chair and clutched him to her chest.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped themselves around the Brit's waist and Francis nuzzled her neck.

"Elisabet, will you marry me?" the Frenchman asked and the English woman stiffened.

"You're not serious?" Elizabeth said and tried to pull out of the blonde man's grasp. Francis's strong hands quickly spun the English girl around so that they faced each other.

"I am deadly serious, mon amour. Marry me and I will spend every day of my life proving my love for you. I 'ave a confession of my own. I 'ave also been in love with you for some time now. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," the Frenchman said as he took the green eyed girl's face into his hands and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat and she stared into Francis' sincere blue eyes. A smile lit up her face and joyous tears brimmed her eyes.

"Yes, Francis," the Brit exclaimed and pulled the Frenchman into another kiss.


	9. Full of Surprises

"Hurry, Francis! I want to get on the road as soon as possible," Elizabeth said excitedly as she carried her diaper bag and Alfred down the townhouse stairs.

"Patience, mon cher. Niagara Falls is not going anywhere," Francis said with a chuckle as he carried a large suitcase down the stairs behind the Brit.

"I know that you git. It's just that I've never been there and we'll be there for Alfred's first birthday," the blonde girl said giving the Frenchman a sour look.

"You are adorable, mon lapin," the blonde man said as they reached the bottom of the staircase. Francis quickly moved past the Brit and opened the front door.

"After you," he gestured toward the door and bowed slightly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and adjusted Alfred on her hip. Being in her third trimester and carrying a one year old was a bit complicated. The English girl was stubborn though and insisted that she could do it.

As she waddled down the front steps, Elizabeth heard Francis' phone go off for the hundredth time that morning.

"Who the bloody Hell keeps texting you? I thought you were on vacation?" the blonde said with some aggravation as she reached the bottom of the steps. Francis locked the house and set the alarm; then hustled down the stairs. He took Alfred from her arms and made a shooing motion toward the car. She gave him a half-hearted glare, but did as indicated.

"Well, I was going to tell you once we were on the road, but since you are on to me. I 'ave une petite surprise waiting for us at l'hotel," the Frenchman said as he strapped Alfred in to his car seat.

"Supize, papa, supize," the babe said excitedly and clapped his little hands.

"Oui, mon petit lapin. Une surprise por mama and you," the Frenchman said as he placed an affectionate kiss on the boy's cheek. Elizabeth grinned at the beautiful scene. Ever since that day months ago, Francis had been the most amazing man she had ever known. True to his word every day he did little things to prove his love not only for Elizabeth, but to Alfred. He treated the boy like his own son and that made the Brit love him all the more.

After loading the suitcase in the trunk, Francis slid into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition.

"Oi, you," Elizabeth said curtly and drew the blonde man's attention.

"Oui, cherie?" he asked quirking a manicured brow.

"Come here," the Brit said curling her finger at him. The Frenchman leaned over and was surprised by the blonde woman planting a kiss on his lips.

"What was that for?" the blue eyed man asked a bit stunned.

"For being a wonderful father," Elizabeth said with a devilish grin and gave his cheek a quick peck.

"Kiss, kiss," Alfred crowed from the back seat showed off his new talent for blowing kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cher, cher wake up we are 'ere," Francis said as he gently shook Elizabeth's shoulder. The Brit groaned and stretched in her seat.

"That didn't take very long," the blonde girl said as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. Her stiff limbs protested as she climbed out of the vehicle.

"It 'elps that you and Alfred slept the entire way," Francis teased as he too climbed out of the car and stretched. A bellhop quickly scurried over to the car.

"May I take your bags?" he asked politely.

"No, it's quite all right we only have a few," the Brit said kindly.

"Elisabet, let 'im take the bags. I don't want you carrying anything this entire trip. We are 'ere to relax," Francis said as he popped open the trunk. The bellhop swiftly moved to the trunk and took the large suitcase out along with the pack-n-play and a smaller bag. Meanwhile, Francis carried the diaper bag and a now cranky Alfred. Small warning whimpers emanated from the little blonde boy indicating that he was on the verge of a meltdown. Elizabeth quickly reached into her purse and produced a lollipop.

"Al, look what mummy has," the Brit said as she pulled the wrapper off of the treat and held it out for the boy. The babe smiled and took the sucker from his mother.

"What do we say, petit lapin?" Francis said as they walked into the hotel.

"Tank mama," the blue eyed boy said before he put the lollipop in his mouth. Elizabeth smiled fondly at her boys as they approached the front desk.

"Welcome, how may I help you?" a very chipper brunette asked with a wide grin.

"We 'ave reservations under the name Bonnefoy," Francis said as he shifted the diaper bag so he could pull his wallet out of his pocket.

"Would you like help, love?" Elizabeth said as she reached into the Frenchman's pocket and produced the wallet. She flipped it open pulling out Francis' ID and credit card.

"Merci, mon amour," the blonde man said his cheeks a little flush. The Brit handed the cards to the brunette and she quickly began plugging things into her computer.

"All right, we have on reserve two suites. Two double beds for six nights and seven days. It also looks like the rest of your party is already here. It looks like they are waiting for you in the lounge," the desk clerk said brightly. Elizabeth turned suspicious eyes on Francis.

"Francis, who is the rest of our party?" the Brit asked coldly a creepy smile on her face. The Frenchman flinched and tugged at his collar.

"That is the surprise, mon cher," the blonde said avoiding contact with searching green eyes.

"I'm warning you right now. If Antonio and Gilbert are here I will put Alfred right back in that car and leave you here," the English woman threatened.

"I swear to you, Elisabet. It is not mes amis," Francis said raising his right hand for emphasis.

"All right, let's go see our 'guests'. Can we have the bags taken to the room?" Elizabeth asked the brunette.

"Yes, ma'am. Here are your cards and electronic key cards for your rooms. The lounge is just here to you left. Enjoy your stay," the desk clerk said and handed several pieces of plastic to the Brit. The blonde nodded her thanks and turned to Francis.

"Shall we?" she said and they pair walked toward the lounge.

"Now Elisabet, all I ask is that you stay calm when you see who is 'ere," Francis said as he took hold of Elizabeth's hand possessively. She looked up at him with questioning concerned eyes.

"Okay, now I'm worried," the Brit said as she mentally prepared herself for whoever was waiting, but nothing prepared her for what she found when the pair entered the lounge.

There sitting at a table were her brothers. Elizabeth instantly froze and stared at the men at the table. Her first instinct was to run, but Francis quickly moved from holding her hand to holding her waist.

"What is that British saying? Keep calm and carry on?" the Frenchman said in an attempt to make a joke, but the English woman did not laugh.

"What are they doing here?" she asked her voice a myriad of emotions. Before Francis could respond Aaron noticed the pair and leapt to his feet.

"Elizabeth!" the redheaded man called out and dashed over to the pair. Elizabeth suddenly found herself wrapped in the loving embrace of her brother.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I'm so sorry lass. I shoulda been here for ya. Please say you'll forgive me," Aaron ask with pleading green eyes as he took his sister by the shoulders and held her at arm's length.

"What? How? Why? Francis?" the Brit said turning her head toward the Frenchman.

"Now don't you go gettin mad at him. You should be havin a roe wit us. While he was here carin for you and your wee one, we were bein selfish arses. Right, boys?" Aaron called over his shoulder to his brothers. Muffled mutters came from the pair at the table.

"Why don't we 'ave a seat. I'm sure we 'ave much to talk about," Francis said as he took Elizabeth's hand and pulled her toward the table.

"Francis, it's been a while," Alawn, who was the male version of Elizabeth, said as Francis took the seat next to him and set the diaper bag on the floor beside him. Elizabeth sat next to Francis and Aaron took his seat next to Alastair.

"Oui, it 'as. 'ow are you Alastair?" the Frenchman asked as he settled Alfred on his lap.

"Good. Is that the boy?" Alastair, who was the mirror image of Aaron, asked and inclined his head toward Alfred.

"Oui, this is your nephew, Alfred. Say 'ello, mon petit," the Frenchman said to the babe.

"Hi," the blonde boy said with a broad smile and waved as he gnawed on his lollipop stick.

"He's a cute one," Aaron beamed and waved at the tot.

"He doesn't look much like Elizabeth. Who's his father again?" Alastair said a bit of an edge to his words.

"And now the judgment begins," Elizabeth said icily and glared daggers across the table at Alastair.

"Alastair, I thought we agreed that this was going to be a civil visit," Alawn said and jabbed the redhead with his elbow.

"Aye, we came here to apologize and see if'n we can salvage our family," Aaron said shooting Alastair a dirty look.

"Family? Ha that's a joke and this tripe about apologizing. What did you all suddenly grow consciences?" the blonde girl said nastily.

"That's uncalled for Elizabeth," the eldest Kirkland said with warning in his voice.

"Why the bloody Hell are you all here to begin with?" Elizabeth said eyeing each man in turn.

"You're fiancée here called each of us and verbally boxed our ears. What was it he said? If we didn't come willing he'd get on the next plane to the UK. Then tie each of us up and drag us here forcibly," Alawn said with a chuckle. The Brit rounded on the Frenchman and fixed him with a glower.

"What were you hoping to accomplish by bringing them here?" she asked her annoyance evident. Francis reached out and took hold of the English woman's hand.

"Cher, it is time to let go of the past. I know there is a lot of bad blood between you and your brothers. We are starting a family and the children deserve to know all of their family. Please, let the 'ate go. If not for your sake then for them," Francis said his eyes pleading. The Brit stared into those sapphire orbs for a moment and then turned away with a heavy sigh.

"Fine," the blonde girl said flatly.

"Wonderful, now let's have a pint to celebrate our reunion," Alastair said with a cheer from Alawn and Aaron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is it much further, frog? I'm really rather not enjoying being blindfolded," Elizabeth grumbled as she held on tightly to Francis' arm. The Brit had been blindfolded from the moment the small party had arrived at the falls.

"Non, mon lapin. We are nearly there," the blonde man said as he patted the girl's hands that clung to him like a vice.

"Where's Alfred? Is he okay?" the English woman fretted and attempted to remove the blindfold for the hundredth time. Francis swatted her hand away from the cloth.

"Aaron 'as 'im. They 'ave taken a shine to each other," the Frenchman said as a series of giggles rang out from the blonde boy. Aaron had Alfred on his shoulders and Alawn was tickling the boy's sides.

"Oi, you two. Be careful with him," Alastair called out as he trailed the party to have a cigarette. Elizabeth couldn't help the small smile that crept on to her face as she listened to all the voices around her. While she still had reservations about letting her brothers back into her life it warmed her heart to see how happy they made her son.

"All right everyone. We are 'ere," Francis announced and pulled the blindfold off of Elizabeth's eyes. The sudden light blinded the Brit for a moment, but as they adjusted to the light the sight that greeted her took her breath away. Torrents of water poured over the massive falls and the light shining off the spray created a rainbow.

"Oh Francis, it's beautiful," the awestruck woman said and squeezed the Frenchman's arm lovingly.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you, mon amour," Francis said and kissed the crown of the blonde's head.

"Wanker," the Brit said affectionately her cheeks slightly flushed.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?" a rather official looking man said as he approached the pair.

"Oui," the blonde man said turning slightly to face the man.

"I'm the magister you requested. I understand you need me to officiate a wedding," the official looking man said and extended his hand.

"Thank you for coming. I know this is a bit unorthodox," the Frenchman said as he shook the other man's hand.

"Wedding?" Elizabeth said in confusion.

"Oui, our wedding, cher," the blonde man said smiling down affectionately at the Brit.

"We're getting married here? Now?" the blonde girl asked frantically.

"Oui, mon cherie. You keep refusing to choose a date and 'ave not looked at any of the wedding magazines I gave you. I know you are scared so I decided that the only way I could get you to marry me was if I took you by surprise,"

Panic, took hold of Elizabeth and her first instinct was to run. She looked around frantically and slowly pulled away from Francis.

"Elisabet, look at me," the Frenchman said firmly and took the Brit's chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted her head up so that their eyes met. Loving blues eyes stared down into panicked emerald ones.

"Mon cher, do you love me?" Francis asked taking Elizabeth by surprise.

"Y-yes, of course I love you," the Brit said as she felt her anxiety dissipate a little.

"And will you marry me?" the Frenchman solicited with a slightly nervous tremor in his voice. The Brit flinched at the tremor; angry with herself for making him doubt her.

"Yes, Francis. Nothing would make me happier," Elizabeth said as happy tears formed at the corner of her eyes.

"Bon," the Frenchman said and placed a kiss on the Brit's forehead. He then turned to the magister and smiled broadly.

"We are ready when you are," the blonde said happily. Aaron suddenly appeared on Elizabeth's left holding a snoozing Alfred. He smiled and kissed his sister's cheek.

"I love you, lass," he said and straightened. The English woman smiled warmly at her brother and then glanced to her right and found Alawn and Alastair standing respectively to Francis' right. They both smiled happily at their sister.

The magister cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to join Francis Bonnefoy and Elizabeth Kirkland in matrimony. Who here gives this woman to be wed?"

"We do," the three Kirkland men said in unison and Elizabeth felt her heart swell.

"And if'n he does you any wrong lass," Aaron said with a devilish grin.

"You just call on your brothers, love," Alawn said with the same grin.

"We'll set him straight," Alastair said and cracked his knuckles. Francis flinched nervously and Elizabeth face-palmed herself. The magister tugged at his collar.

"Right, moving along. Do you have the rings?"

Alastair stepped forward producing a small box. He handed it to Francis and winked at Elizabeth before returning to his place. The Frenchman opened the box and Elizabeth gasped at the beautiful platinum bands. Each was carved with intricate Celtic eternity knots. The blonde man took both rings from the box and put the box in his pocket.

"Francis, Elizabeth join hands and face each other," the pair turned and clasped hands.

"Francis, repeat after me. I, Francis, take you Elizabeth to be my wife,"

"I, Francis, take you Elisabet to be my wife,"

"To have and to hold. To honor and cherish. For now and forever,"

"To 'ave and to 'old. To 'onor and cherish. For now and forever,"

"With this ring I thee wed," Francis released Elizabeth's hand and took the smaller of the bands from his left hand.

"Wis this ring I thee wed," The Frenchman took Elizabeth's left hand and slid the band onto her third finger. Elizabeth felt her heart swell near to bursting as she looked at the platinum ring.

"Elizabeth repeat after me," the magister said drawing the Brit's attention.

"I, Elizabeth, take you Francis to be my husband,"

"I, Elizabeth, take you Francis to be my husband,"

"To have and to hold. To honor and cherish. For now and forever,"

"To have and to hold. To honor and cherish. For now and forever,"

"With this ring I thee wed," the Brit took the larger ring from Francis and clasped his hand.

"With this ring I thee wed," she then slid the band onto the Frenchman's third finger.

"By the power invested in me by the state of New York I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," the magister had barely said before Elizabeth had grabbed Francis by his collar and pulled him into a deep passionate kiss. The Frenchman wrapped his arms lovingly around the Brit and dipped her back.

"Get him, lass," Aaron crowed while Alawn cat called and Alastair gave a loud whistle. Francis quickly straightened the pair and ended the kiss.

"I 'ave one more surprise, mon amour," the Frenchman said and pulled several folded papers from his pocket. Elizabeth looked at the pages curiously. The blonde man unfolded the papers and handed them to the English woman. She took them and read the title.

"Adoption papers?" she asked quizzically.

"Oui, cher. I may not be 'is biological father, but I think of Alfred as my own son. Now that we are married I want our family to be complete. Once you and the magister sign these documents I will be Alfred's adoptive father," Francis explained as he looked affectionately at Alfred over the Brit's shoulder. Rapturous tears flowed freely from Elizabeth's eyes as she threw herself at Francis and hugged him tightly.

"Francis, I don't have the words…Thank you! Thank you for loving my son! Thank you for loving me! I don't deserve such a wonderful man!" the blonde woman said through her tears.

"Non, Elisabet. You deserve everything and more. Je t'aime, mon amour," Francis said as he held the Brit as she cried into his chest.


	10. Big Happy Family

"Francis. Francis, wake up! Something's wrong," Elizabeth said anxiously and shook her new husband's shoulder violently. The Frenchman stirred and flipped on the bedside lamp.

"What is it cher?" the blonde man asked groggily as he rolled over to face his new wife.

"I…I think my water may have broke. Look," the Brit said her green eyes full of fear as she pulled back the sheets to reveal a large moist spot on the mattress.

"But you are not due for another few weeks," the blue eyed man said as he sprang from the bed and hurriedly dressed.

"Oi, what's all the commotion for?" Alawn asked from the second bed and flipped on his own lamp.

"We need to get Elisabet to l'hopital. Something is wrong," Francis said as he quickly pulled on his tennis shoes.

"What? Is the baby okay? I'll wake Aaron and Alastair," Alawn said as he sprang from the bed and dashed out of the hotel room.

"Francis, I'm scared," Elizabeth said and hissed in pain as she tried to climb out of the bed.

"Don't move, mon lapin," the Frenchman said and was instantly at the Brit's side.

"Oi, let us in," Aaron said from the other side of the door. The blonde man rushed to the door and the three Kirkland brothers burst into the room.

"All right, Aaron you get Alfred. Alawn get your arse downstairs and get the car. Has anyone called an ambulance?" Alastair barked orders. When no one answered the eldest Kirkland cursed and grabbed the hotel phone violently.

While Alastair was on the phone with emergency dispatch, Alawn quickly dressed and went for the car.

"Here now boy'o. There's a good lad," Aaron said as he lifted the little blonde boy from his travel bed wrapped in a blanket. Seeing that his brother-in-laws had taken charge, Francis went to the bed and gingerly moved Elizabeth onto the dryer part of the bed and lay down beside her.

"It's too early, Francis," the Brit sobbed as she clung to the Frenchman.

"Shh…Hush, mon cher. Everything will be all right. 'elp is on it's way," the blonde man said soothingly and rubbed small circles on the blonde woman's back.

"Francis, sing me the song you were singing the day Alfred was born, please," the English woman requested her fear and anguish lacing her words. Francis ached for his love and wished he could do more for her.

"Oui, mon amour," the Frenchman said placing a kiss on the crown of the blonde's head before he quietly began singing.

"Beauty queen of only eighteen, She had some trouble with herself, He was always there to help her, She always belonged to someone else,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One traumatic ambulance ride and quick ER stop later, Elizabeth found herself lying on a surgical bed being prepared for an emergency C-section. The ER doctor had found that Elizabeth was indeed in labor. Her body had not properly recovered from her previous pregnancy and could no longer take the strain of carrying a child. The scariest thing had been when the doctor had told her that the baby's heart rate was drastically low.

Angry, guilty tears were streaming from her eyes as she stared up at the white tiles on the roof.

"This is all my fault," the Brit whispered and clutched her eyes shut. The sudden touch of a hand caressing her face made the English woman open her eyes. She turned her head and looked into the loving face of her husband.

"Mon lapin, you 'ad no idea this would 'appen. Stop being so 'ard on yourself. The doctors are doing everything they can to 'elp you and the bebe. It will be all right as long as we 'ave love and faith," Francis said encouragingly.

"Mrs. Bonnefoy, we're starting the procedure now. You're going to feel a lot of pressure, but try to relax," the doctor said his eyes appearing over the small curtain that was between him and Elizabeth. Francis took hold of the Brit's hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. The blonde woman suddenly felt things pressing and pulling on her abdomen and tensed in discomfort.

"We need to pick out a name," Francis said drawing Elizabeth's attention away from her distress.

"What did you have in mind?" the blonde girl asked thankful for the distraction.

"'ow do you feel about Francine if it is a girl?"

"We are not naming the baby after you. What about Victoria?"

"So stuffy. What about if it's a boy?"

"If I recall correctly you were partial to Matthew," the Brit said with a loving grin at the Frenchman. Francis smiled from ear to ear and placed a loving kiss on the English woman's hand that he held.

"Mathieu it is then," the blonde man said.

"It's a boy," the doctor suddenly exclaimed and the pair looked up to see a tiny face looking at them over the screen. Elizabeth felt her heart soar as she looked into the face of her newborn son.

"Hi, Matthew," the blonde said as fresh tears of joy streamed from her green eyes. The doctor quickly handed the tiny infant off to a nurse who took the babe over to the special preemie care bed. That was when Elizabeth noticed her baby wasn't crying.

"Francis, why isn't he crying?" the Brit asked as panic rose in her chest.

"Elisabet, be calm. The doctors are taking care of 'im. Give it a moment," the Frenchman tried to encourage, but his own anxiety shone through.

"Where is all this blood coming from?" Francis heard one of the doctors say with a hint of panic in his voice. The blonde man turned his head and looked at the doctors as they were sewing the English woman's abdomen back together. His heart shrank in horror when he saw the panic in their eyes.

The Frenchman snapped his head back to his wife just as her eyes rolled back in her head and her eyelids slid closed.

"Elisabet?" Francis said anxiously and caressed his beloved's face. When she didn't move terror took hold of him.

"Elisabet!" the Frenchman cried and all eyes were drawn to him.

"Damn! Get him out of here!" one of the doctors called and a pair of strong hands took hold of the Frenchman's shoulders.

"Non, let go of me! Elisabet!" the blonde man cried as he struggled against the hands that grasped him. Another set of hands soon took hold of Francis and began dragging him from the room. The Frenchman tried desperately to break free from his capturers to no avail. The two orderlies pulled the blonde man out of the surgical suite and into the hall.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, you need to stop. There is nothing you can do for her," the orderly who had hold of Francis right arm said in an attempt to calm the blonde man. Sadly, his words had the opposite effect.

"Non, she needs me," the panicked Frenchman growled and attempted again to break free.

"Sir, you need to calm down and go to the waiting area with the rest of your family. The doctors are doing all they can for your wife and son. If you keep this up we'll have no choice but to call the police. What good can you do for them if you are in a jail cell?" the other orderly said sternly.

Abruptly all of the fight went out of Francis. Angry tears streamed from the Frenchman's eyes. He was angry at himself for being so powerless. Two of the most important people in his life were in danger and there was nothing he could do to help.

"Come on, Mr. Bonnefoy. Let's go to the rest of your family," the first orderly said and led the blonde man to the waiting room.

"Oi, Frenchie. What's going on? Why are you out here? How are Elizabeth and the baby?" Alastair said springing to his feet as Francis entered the waiting room. The other two Kirkland brothers quickly rose to their feet as well when they saw the sad state the blonde man was in. The Frenchman staggered forward his face downcast and crestfallen.

"Francis? What's wrong? You look like someone died," Alawn said and immediately regretted the words when Francis' head snapped up his eyes wide with horror.

"Where's all this blood coming from? That is what the doctor said. Then Elisabet she…She closed 'er eyes. I called 'er name and she didn't move. My son, my Mathieu 'e wazn't crying. Why? Why didn't 'e cry?" Francis said as he crumpled to his hand and knees. Heart wrenching, anguished sobs tore from the blonde man's chest. The three Kirkland brothers looked on in stunned silence as realization reared its ugly head.

"No, not Elizabeth," Aaron said as tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he clutched Alfred tightly to his chest. Not understanding what was happening the little boy began to cry. Upon hearing the wails of his adopted son, Francis staggered to his feet and took shaky steps toward the child.

"Mon Alfred, it is all right come to papa," the Frenchman said as he took the crying babe from his uncle. The blonde man gently cradled the boy to his chest and whispered soothing words into his hair.

"Mama! Mama!" the little blonde boy wailed and rubbed furiously at his small eyes.

"Shh…I am sorry, mon petite lapin," Francis said sadly as he rocked the babe and softly hummed. Slowly, the child's cries ebbed into whimpering hiccups. A tomb like silence fell over the room as none present knew what to say or do. All they could do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt like an eternity had passed before a doctor appeared in the waiting room. He was a middle-aged handsome dark haired man with a grave countenance. He walked toward the four anxious men.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?" the doctor queried. Francis was instantly on his feet holding tightly to a sleeping Alfred.

"Elisabet and Mathieu, 'ow are they?" the Frenchman asked preparing himself for the worst.

"Your son appears to be completely healthy, but because he has not reached his full gestation we would like to keep him for observation," the older man said simply. A small wave of relief washed over the room, but it was short lived.

"What about Elizabeth?" Alastair asked as he stepped up beside Francis.

"We were able to stop the bleeding and she has stabilized. Unfortunately, she has yet to regain consciousness," the dark haired man said regrettably.

"Can we see her?" Alawn asked as he and Aaron joined the group.

"Yes, please follow me," the doctor said and turned back the way he came. The little group followed behind the older man down several hallways until they came to a stop in front of their destination. The dark haired doctor opened the door and the party entered the room. Francis' breathe caught in his throat when he saw his wife. Cords, wires, and tubes were connected to various parts of her body. Her skin was ashen and she looked so frail.

Francis moved quickly to his wife's side and took a seat in the chair beside her bed. Shifting Alfred so the babe rested safely in his crooked arm the Frenchman reached out and took hold of the English woman's hand.

The gentle jostling roused the small boy and he whimpered in displeasure.

"Here now, lad. Come to Uncle Alastair so your dad can be with your mum," the eldest Kirkland said as he took the boy from Francis. The Frenchman began to protest, but was cut off by the stern look Alastair gave him. The blonde man then turned back to his beloved and an odd chuckle escaped his lips.

"You look like Sleeping Beauty, mon amour," Francis said as he reached up and caressed the unconscious girl's cheek. "I wonder if I were to kiss you would you awaken like she did?"

The blonde rose from his seat and leaned over Elizabeth. He then placed a soft kiss on her lips and leaned back expectantly. Minutes went by and still the English girl did not wake. A bitter sigh issued from the Frenchman's lips.

"Ah, well it was worth a try," the blue eyed man said as he took his seat holding tightly to the blonde woman's hand. Defeated, Francis rested his head on the edge of the bed. A small grunt of discomfort instantly drew all eyes to Elizabeth. The four men watched joyously as emerald eyes fluttered open and looked around in confusion.

"Where? What happened? Francis?" Elizabeth rasped as her emerald eyes settled on the Frenchman.

"Oh, mon amour," Francis said as grateful tears welled in his eyes. The Frenchman quickly moved forward and hugged the English woman. "I thought I 'ad lost you!"

"Lost me? What are you on about? Why do I feel like a truck hit me? Where is Matthew? Will someone please answer me?" the Brit fired off as she tried to shove her blubbering husband off of her.

"Elizabeth, you almost died during the c-section," Alawn said instantly causing the blonde girl to freeze.

"What?" the green eyed girl asked in shock.

"You lost a lot of blood according to the doctors," Aaron explained. Elizabeth processed that for a moment and looked down at Francis. She could see from his body language that the Frenchman had been through Hell and back worrying about her.

"It's okay now, love. You can't be rid of me that easily," the Brit joked and leaned forward placing a kiss on the crown of the blonde man's head. The Frenchman's head snapped up instantly. His eyes full of anger, distress, and love.

"Don't even joke like that, mon lapin. You don't know how scared I was for you and Mathieu," Francis said clutching the English woman tighter.

"I'm sorry I scared you love," the blonde girl said as she managed to snake an arm out of the blue eyed man's grasp. She reached forward and caressed her husband's cheek. Francis smiled and pressed into her hand.

"Je t'aime, Elisabet," the Frenchman cooed.

"I love you, too. Now where is Matthew? Is he all right?" Elizabeth asked with some concern.

"He's fine, lass. Doctor's got him in…What's that place called again?" Alastair queried.

"I think the doctor called it a Nick-You. Not sure, but they say he's healthy. They just want him to stay for observation," Alawn added.

"Well what am I still doing here? Someone get a nurse in here now. I want to go see my son," Elizabeth said as she again tried to push Francis off of her so she could get out of the hospital bed. All four men chuckled and looked at each other knowingly.

"She's definitely a Kirkland," Aaron said.

"Stubborn as always," Francis said as he rose to do his wife's bidding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later….

"Mattie home! Mattie home!" Alfred cried excitedly as he held his mother's hand on the sidewalk in front of their town house. The boy bounced excitedly and watched as Francis took the baby carrier holding Matthew from the car.

"Yes, poppet. Mattie is home now," Elizabeth said lovingly to her eldest son.

"Mon petit lapin, is a very excited big brother," Francis said as the little family walked to their stoop.

"Well he has been waiting very patiently for his brother to come home. You're going to be a wonderful big brother, aren't you love," the English woman said as she quickly picked up the small boy.

"Yes!" the blonde boy exclaimed and stared contently at the baby carrier. Both parents smiled at the adorable display. Francis pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

"After you, cher," the Frenchman said and gestured for the Brit to enter first.

"Merci, Monsieur Bonnefoy," Elizabeth said and gave him a coquettish look.

"Don't tease, Elisabet. You know what happens to me when you speak French," the blonde man said looking at the English woman with bedroom eyes.

As the family entered the town house the lights flicked on surprising Elizabeth.

"SURPRISE!" multiple voices cried at once. The Brit stared in shock at the crowd of people in the living room. On the far wall hung a banner that said 'Welcome home, Elizabeth and Matthew,' with a second sign saying 'Happy Birthday, Alfred,'. A hand written note saying 'late' was taped between 'Happy' and 'Birthday'. Red and white streamers hung around the room and a folding table set under the banner was covered in food.

"What in the world?" the blonde girl said quizzically as she looked at the faces in the room. Gilbert was there with his little brother Ludwig, who looked a bit uncomfortable. Elizaveta and Roderich were next to the brothers and the brunette was holding Feliciano. The boy's twin brother, Romano, held his brother's hand as he was held by Antonio. The three Kirkland brothers were there as well.

Suddenly, Francis leaned in and kissed his wife's cheek.

"Are you surprised, mon amour? I thought it would be wonderful to have our friends and family here to help celebrate our family becoming whole," the Frenchman said with a wide grin. Tears welled in the blonde girl's eyes and she pulled her husband into a hug.

"Thank you, Francis," the Brit said with a sniffle and then turned to the others. "Thank you, everyone for being here to celebrate our family,"

Words of love rang out from all present as the guests converged on the little family.

"And 'appy eva affer," Alfred said making his parents look at him in surprise. Elizabeth hugged her son tightly and showered him with kisses.

"Oui, mon petit," Francis said as he pulled his wife and son into another hug. "And they lived 'appily ever after,"


End file.
